Socks, Stupid People, and Sherlock Holmes
by True-Booty
Summary: Holmes and Watson accidentally get transported to the 21st century and end up in Kay Ballard's basement. Somewhat fangirl-meets-hero. HolmesxOC and WatsonxOC  Minimally . Hilarity and randomness ensues when they try living like 21st century guys! ENJOY!;D
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, readers! I would like to thank you for choosing to read this little instilment of "Socks, Stupid People, and Sherlock Holmes"! It's been in my head for a while now, but I haven't had time to post it. Plus with school and all… (sigh) The first chapter might not seem like one from a comedy story, but this is just a precursor to the real story. If you review, I'll give you cookies! Just kidding…I don't have any cookies. XD But still, this is my first story, so please R&R! Much appreciated! :D **

** -AUHolmes **

"HOLMES!"

Sherlock Holmes of 221B Baker Street poked his head out from behind his set-up of various test tubes filled with dangerous-looking liquids warily, "Yes?"

A harried-looking Dr. John Watson stormed out of his room and into the dark workspace of Holmes to confront the detective. "You shot a hole through my window! A hole! A big, bloody, gaping hole!"

Holmes raised his eyebrows casually, "And?"

"'And?'" Watson exploded. "I've told you countless times! No experiments in my room! I don't complain that you use the rest of the house as a science lab, or that you use my dog as a test subject, or even that you ruined my new waistcoat with that foul-smelling chemical the other day! But this is MY room Holmes! Not yours! Stay out!"

"First of all, Gladstone is _our _dog," Holmes explained matter-of-factly, eyeing the frazzled doctor amusedly, "Second, I _thought_ we agreed that waistcoat was too small. And third, I needed to use that window to carry on my newest experiment."

"You could have at least asked –"

"Wait." Holmes raised a finger impatiently. He turned abruptly to the right and made a beeline for the unlit fireplace. He knelt down hastily and began sorting through the pepper-colored ashes, muttering absentmindedly to himself. Holmes at last found what he was looking for: a small fragment of clear glass. He picked it up carefully and approached Watson, grinning madly. "This little piece of glass from your window is the key to my experiment."

Watson rubbed his eyes exasperatedly, "And what, may I ask, is this experiment?"

Holmes's eyes glinted feverishly as he began to tell about his triumph, "Yesterday night when you were asleep I stumbled upon a small amount of sodium hydroxide under the cabinet. Now, do you know what sodium hydroxide is?"

Watson shook his head no.

Holmes ran his hand through his wild black hair and began to pace the room excitedly, "No matter, no matter! I shall explain. Sodium hydroxide is a material also known as lye-it is sometimes used in the process of producing paper products, such as writing paper. It is sold…" He paused and pointed to a small container filled with white, bullet-shaped pills. "as pellets. As I was examining those pellets, I realized that you had left your door open. Out of common decency, I went to go and shut it and noticed something rather strange…care to guess, Watson?"

Watson knew better than to try and figure out what Holmes had observed, so he took a wild guess: "The moon?"

"Exactly!" Holmes barked, smiling maniacally, "I observed that the moonlight shining through your window rather oddly. I deduced that the glass was much thinner than the glass used in the rest of the house; it was probably replaced after I accidentally broke it with that chair. Then it hit me…"

"What hit you, old boy?" Watson inquired, eager to find out why Holmes had broken his window.

"Sodium hydroxide reacts with glass-normally very slowly, but it reacts all the same. Now, you may be wondering why I had to use the glass from your window. Here is why: It is known that when sodium hydroxide reacts with glass it forms a material called sodium silicate, which is used in making things fire-resistant and also used in cement. It is also known as liquid glass. I knew not whether it reacted faster with thicker glass, like the glass from the front window, or thinner glass, like that which is used in the window in your room. My idea was to take sample of each type of glass – as you can see, I also shot a hole through the front window – and test it to see which reacted faster. I used two pieces from your room: one heated and one not. And I also used two pieces from the front window: one heated and one not."

"Is that the only reason you did this experiment?" Watson asked, suddenly suspicious that this was leading up to something much more dangerous.

"Of course not, my dear man," Holmes laughed, and clasped his hands behind his back. "This is only the beginning!"

Holmes approached his display of test tubes and dropped the heated piece of glass into one of four very large ones filled with the white pellets – the other three had previously been filled with glass.

Watson, expecting some sort of explosion, threw his hands over his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Holmes simply laughed amiably, "Did I not tell you that it reacts slowly?" He strutted over to a corner adorned in cobwebs and old, yellowed articles taped to the walls and began rummaging through the pile of objects that resided there. He finally found a large, covered object about the length of a man's arm and about as wide as one too, and put it down on the table carefully. He pulled off the cover as dramatically as he could and presented it to Watson. "_This_ is my real experiment."

Watson found himself staring at the metallic contraption on the table. It looked like an ordinary plumbing pipe and a large gun had gotten married and had a demented baby. While most of it was akin to the likes of a plumbing pipe, this _thing _was different in two specific ways: First of all, instead of just a hollow end, there was a metal sphere attached to the front end of the contraption. Secondly, the thing seemed to have been filled with molten metal at some point, which resulted in the back end having a small holding chamber. As impressive as it looked, however, Watson also noticed that the metal stick was in a dilapidated condition and could definitely use some fixing up.

Holmes looked proudly at the metal stick, "I am going to use this thing-I call it the S.T.I.C.C. because it is made up of the metals silver, titanium, iron, chromium, and copper-to produce electricity without a generator. It is not a battery, but a continuous, reliable source of energy."

"Very good, Holmes," Watson commended. "But what does the sodium hydroxide have to do with this?"

"I am glad you asked, Watson!" Holmes nodded seriously. "While sodium silicate is not used for power, it is used as a very powerful, fire-resistant cement, as I told you. You can see that the sphere is falling off the base, yes? Well, I am using the strongest solution of the sodium silicate to put the S.T.I.C.C. together, and the rest of it for the fuel."

Watson looked confused, "I thought you said it was fire-resistant."

"It is, my dear fellow, it is. But when you heat the remaining sodium silicate, it becomes a silicic acid. When you add aluminum metallic powder to that silicic acid, it becomes dangerous… VERY dangerous. It releases hydrogen into the air, and hydrogen is very flammable. But this reaction is what will be my fuel."

"I sort of see what you're getting at, Holmes… but how are you going to do it?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson!" Holmes smiled, rummaging through his pockets for his pipe. He lit it silently, apparently deep in thought for a moment, and then launched right back into his spiel. "I first make sure that all of the S.T.I.C.C. is glued securely with the sodium silicate. Then I add the silicic acid into the hollow area of the S.T.I.C.C. and then carefully add the aluminum metallic powder, immediately shutting the back with a premade covering of chromium and sealed with the silicate! Do you see now why I shot a hole through your window?"

Watson shook his head in wonder, "Why did you shoot it, anyways? Why not just break it with a hammer?"

Holmes shrugged, the maniac glimmer fleeing his eyes as quickly as it had come, "What's the fun in just breaking it? Plus I needed to test out that device I was telling you about – the one that silences the sound of a gun."

"It certainly worked." Watson muttered.

"What surprised me," Holmes admitted, taking a seat in the armchair by the fireplace and sitting in it so that he was still facing Watson, "is that you slept through it. Even though it was silenced, there was still quite a loud thud and the sound of glass breaking. You, a soldier of the Afghan War, are naturally a light sleeper. This leads me to believe that you were very tired yesterday. Very tired. You didn't even change for bed, instead choosing to sleep in your day clothes. Knowing you never do that, I deduced that something had happened."

"Holmes. I don't really want to know what you're thinking, knowing that—"

Holmes interrupted him, his eyes hardening into the impassive, brown orbs that they always became when he was examining someone or deducing something from his surroundings; "There is a tear in your left sleeve that could only have been caused by someone pulling too forcefully at it. If it had gotten caught on something, there would have been more of a tear here at the start of the cut." He grabbed Watson's left arm and pointed to the base of the tear. "You also have a slight bruise on your right temple, and your eyes are bloodshot, despite the fact that you got a full nine hours of sleep. Your limp is even worse than normal, which I deduce from examining your left shoe – you are putting even more weight on it than you do normally, and even in an exceptionally short amount of time the shoe is starting to sag at the sole area. There are scratches on your knuckles, and on the edge of your collar there is a small bloodstain. This cannot have been from you accidentally getting cut, as the angle implies that it came from someone else's fist…" Holmes gazed accusingly at his roommate, "Have you been in a fight, Watson?"

Watson showed no sign of acknowledging Holmes and began to walk quickly to the front window. He threw the heavy blinds open, causing the bright sunlight to drip through the windows and hit Holmes squarely in the eyes.

"Gah!" Holmes cried out, throwing his arms up to block the golden rays from blinding him. "Was that really necessary?"

Watson turned on him innocently, "Oh yes, it was. I thought that the place could use some brightening up. Come, Holmes, it's a lovely day and it's only one in the afternoon. We should go out and do something!"

Holmes slowly lowered his arms, still squinting. He had tears running down his dirty, unshaven face. "You're deliberately avoiding my question, Watson."

Watson grabbed Holmes's arm and dragged him towards the door, "Come on! Let's go and get some fresh air!"

Holmes, struggling to free himself from Watson's iron grip, threw himself down onto the floor, taking Watson with him.

Watson, who was completely taken by surprise, tumbled down after Holmes. He tried to grab Holmes's collar, but Holmes, anticipating Watson's move, rolled away from the doctor and grabbed the S.T.I.C.C.

"Were you in a fight?" Holmes asked again, brandishing the S.T.I.C.C. threateningly.

Watson still tried to avoid talking to Holmes about the subject, "Holmes! No need to be violent! I just want to take a walk… a nice, calming walk in the park!"

"I don't believe you, Watson…" Holmes told his friend quietly. "Stop trying to fool me. You're embarrassed about something."

"No!" Watson was almost on the verge of tears, his normally composed, tanned face flushing quickly. "Come on, Holmes!"

Holmes sighed, "You leave me no choice…" He ran over to the table of chemicals and began mixing things quickly. He took the sodium silicate, which was apparently already done, and began piecing together the S.T.I.C.C. He feverishly loaded everything into the back of the S.T.I.C.C. and turned on his Bunsen burner.

"Holmes, no!" Watson cried, trying to stop Holmes from loading the dangerous mixture into the metal rod.

"I will only stop if you admit that you got into a fight, and you are embarrassed about it!" Holmes warned, his expression one of mad determination. His hair, messy as it was, was so crazed that it looked as if someone had sent an electric current through Holmes.

Watson weighed his options: tell Holmes about his embarrassing fight and not die, don't tell Holmes about the embarrassing fight and get electrocuted, or don't tell Holmes about the embarrassing fight and find out that the S.T.I.C.C. doesn't work. He decided to take a gamble, for he was quite a gambler when it came to boxing anyways and he nearly never turned down a bet.

Watson cleared his throat, donning a guise of impassiveness, "No."

Holmes's eyes burned with a mad passion. "You asked for it." He added the silicic acid to the base of the S.T.I.C.C. and fumbled around for the aluminum metallic powder.

Watson was getting nervous. A trickle of sweat dripped down his face and onto the floor, and his knee throbbed painfully.

Holmes glared at him one last time, "Last chance, Watson."

Watson turned chalk-white but didn't break eye contact with Holmes. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "No."

Holmes added the powder into the S.T.I.C.C. and slammed the chromium backing on.

For a moment, life seemed to go in slow motion. Watson stood, suspended in time as the S.T.I.C.C. blared to life. The tip was now illuminated in a burning, white glow that made Watson's eyes run like a river with tears. Holmes himself stared at the contraption in awe, seemingly oblivious to the blinding white light. As they both stared at it, it began to vibrate slowly.

"I did it…" Holmes whispered, clutching his invention in his hand proudly. "I actually did it…this is sensational! I have revolutionized science! Fantastic!"

For a moment, Watson actually believed that Holmes had forgotten about the quarrel that they'd had not half a minute ago. He tried to inch back into his room to retrieve his cane sword so that if Holmes decided to attack him with the now-lethal S.T.I.C.C. he could defend himself to an extent.

As he took his first cautious step towards the threshold of his quarters, Holmes spun toward him, contraption gripped tightly in his hand and an expression of triumph on his face. "Don't even think about it…" he whispered threateningly. He approached Watson like a lion stalking it's prey, silent but deadly.

"Don't do it, Holmes!" Watson warned, backing away quickly.

"Don't worry!" Holmes said cheerfully, even though the maniac glint was still in his eyes, "It'll only induce a coma-like state for about two days! But that's just if it grazes you… Now, if I were to prod you…"

Watson lunged for the nearest thing that looked like it could be used for self-defense. In this case it was the poker for the fire. He held it like a saber and pointed it at Holmes, "If it's a duel you want, it's a duel you'll get!" He lunged ferociously at Holmes.

Holmes parried his swipe easily and swiftly slammed his free left hand into Watson's sword arm, "Hmm…too bad you've been in a fight. You normally fight better than this."

Watson narrowed his eyes at the detective, wincing at the pain in his arm from Holmes' blow. "If you think I'm giving it my all now, you're sadly mistaken."

Holmes let out a soft chuckle and jabbed at Watson's chest. "In case you haven't noticed, I've not been letting the electrical tip touch you."

Watson clenched his teeth. "How kind. Remind me to write a thank you note."

The two slashed at each other with a renewed vigor. Instead of putting them down, the smack talk seemed to be egging them on.

Watson let out a small bark of laughter as Holmes leaped off the sofa in an attempt to launch an aerial attack, dodging easily. "Good try, old boy!"

Holmes grinned crookedly. "That was just to intimidate you."

Watson thrust his makeshift sword at Holmes' right arm. "Let me assure you that it isn't working."

"Maybe," Holmes snarled, leaping out of the way as Watson aimed a kick at his chest, "it was just a ruse to distract you from something up my sleeve."

"Let me tell you, Holmes," Watson grimaced as Holmes punched him in the ribs, "I don't think even you are that clever."

"Was that supposed to infuriate me?" Holmes inquired, amused. He rushed at Watson in an attempt to break his defensive stance, putting all of his strength into a devastating sideswipe.

Watson kept his stance with difficulty, "Not…necessarily."

They remained this way for the good part of a minute, each straining each muscle in their bodies in an effort too become the victor. It seemed it would be a tie until…

Holmes finally won out and smashed Watson to the floor, using his body to pin him so that he was nearly immobilized. "Good show, Watson."

Watson, sweating profusely, found the strength to grin at him, "You weren't so bad yourself."

Just as Holmes was going to let Watson up, Watson used all his remaining strength to throw Holmes across the room. Holmes, completely taken by surprise kept his hand latched to Watson's collar.

Watson and Holmes tumbled across the floor until Holmes' right hand, still clutching the S.T.I.C.C., slammed against the large box of metal, fuses, and electrical wires at the edge of the room.

As the large explosion ripped through the room, Holmes attempted to drag Watson to safety. However, he was too late. The mind-blowing blast engulfed Watson and he in a sea of flames, and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys, and thanks for reading chapter 2 of my fanfic! I've been really tired lately, and the day I was going to finish this was the day of our last choir concert, and then I had to get all of my homework done, and (rants). It's been a really long frigging week… =_= Ah, well! Holmes and Watson find themselves in Kay's basement! I hope you like Kay… She's a fun character, and I really enjoyed writing about her! R&R and special thanks to my first two reviewers! ;D **

**-AUHolmes **

**Chapter 2 **

-Kay's POV-

"Ringo…What have you done?" I lectured my energetic black lab from my bed on the second floor.

Even in the pitch-blackness I could tell that his big, puppy-dog eyes were staring into my gray-blue ones, telepathically pleading _I didn't do it! Does this mean no food? But I LOVE food! I didn't do anything wrong!_

I patted him gently on the head to reassure him that I'd keep feeding him and swung myself out of my bed with difficulty. I _hate _waking up before I have to, so waking up at three O' clock in the morning wasn't a welcome change to my schedule.

I'd been woken from my slumber by a loud crashing noise in the basement, and because only my dog and I lived in my condo just outside of Chicago, I naturally assumed that Ringo had knocked something over during one of his famous 'early-morning spazzes' as I called them. I did keep a lot of junk in that basement…

Just to be safe, I grabbed whatever was on my nightstand—in this case a spoon—to defend myself in case a robber was downstairs stealing one of my precious guitars.

With Ringo at my side, I slowly crept down the stairs to the main floor. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary among the mess that was my living area, I made my way towards the downstairs.

Ringo nudged the door open and tumbled down the stairs before I even had a chance to. I was beginning to shake with paranoia—I have an overactive imagination and my mind was currently formulating creepy images of people hiding in closets with bloody butcher knives and zombies climbing out of the storage boxes in the corner…

I slowly descended after my pet, spoon at the ready and mind racing. It was a long staircase; the walls were decorated with large posters of bands, namely the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and the Who, and of movies, "Sherlock Holmes", "Bringing Up Baby", and "North by Northwest" among others. I also had a bunch of road signs and other articles of random memorabilia from my travels and Amazon. The carpet was old, but it was a dark brown so it hid the stains from my I'm-bored-as-hell-so-I'm-going-to-do-something-stupid experiments that I'm prone to.

As I reached the last step, I heard a loud banging noise coming from the farthest closet in the right corner along with muffled voices.

Trembling with fear, I raised my spoon and approached the door cautiously, only one though running through my mind: _Who the hell are these people and what the fuck are they doing in my closet? _

I took a deep breath, grabbed the door handle, and pulled.

-3rd person POV-

Holmes wasn't sure of the exact time that he'd woken up, but he did know that he couldn't move because of the cramped space around him.

"Watson?" he whispered. "Are you well?"

Watson's voice hissed back at him, "Peachy. I'm just brilliant at the moment. How are you, Holmes?"

Holmes attempted to find Watson's face in the darkness but found it impossible to see anything in the black nothingness. He tried to move around, but the walls around him confined him to a cramped position in which his legs were pulled up to his neck and one of his arms was pinned under something heavy. The other remained quite useless on Holmes's left side.

"Watson, I do believe we are in Hell."

Watson, in a similar position to Holmes, grinned despite the fact that he was losing feeling in his legs, "No, my dear man, I think God despises us even more than that and has sent us to Purgatory until we are ready to be sent to Hell."

Holmes swung around his left fist until it collided with something. Watson let out a howl of pain.

Holmes grimaced, "My apologies, Watson. I was merely attempting to ascertain exactly where we are."

Watson swore loudly, "We're in Purgatory, I keep telling you!"

Holmes began writhing furiously. Watson, caught off guard, began to do the same so that he wouldn't be crushed by the now wriggling Holmes.

"Watson," Holmes began excitedly, ceasing to move, "I believe we are in some sort of closet."

Watson swore again, "What in God's name leads you to believe tha—"

"Quiet!" Holmes interjected suddenly. "There is someone down here with us. Listen carefully…"

Watson ceased talking and listened attentively. He indeed heard faint footsteps and the gentle tinkle of a bell… Was it the tag on a dog collar? He tried to adjust himself into a more comfortable position, "Who could that be?"

Holmes remained silent until the sound of footsteps became more and more obvious. He sighed softly. "She'll be opening the door momentarily. Brace yourself for a minor fall, Watson."

"She?"

Holmes had no time to respond. The door flew open and the two men tumbled heavily out of the dark, cramped closet into the semi-darkness of the room. Watson ground to a halt at the feet of a black Labrador retriever who seemed to be glad for the unexpected guests' arrival, while Holmes landed next to a woman holding a spoon.

The woman jumped back in surprise, using the spoon as a weapon as she took a defensive stance in front of Holmes. "Who the hell are you?"

Holmes tried to stand up but the woman kicked him solidly in the shoulder. "Don't try it, man. Again, who the hell are you?"

Holmes tumbled over in pain; the woman knew how to fight. He looked up at her face, trying to get a clear look at her through his streaming eyes, but the lighting was too bad for any deduction. Holmes could barely see her outfit, but he knew outlandish clothing when he saw it.

Watson held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, gently pushed the slobbering dog away, and slowly got to his feet. "I am Dr. John Watson. And who, pray tell, are you?"

She kept her eyes trained on Holmes, but she answered Watson's question quietly, "I am Kaydence Ballard. Will you tell me what the hell you're doing in my basement?"

Holmes suddenly sat up, rubbing his shoulder. "Well, Miss Ballard, let me assure you that we have no idea how we got here in the first place. I assume we are somewhere in America, maybe the Great Lakes region, from your accent, but that still doesn't explain your odd choice in clothing or your strange instruments."

Kaydence grinned at him, "Stop acting like a dumbass! Of course we're in the 'Great Lakes region', Mr…?"

Holmes looked startled. "Holmes. And what are these instruments?"

She looked confused. "What, my guitars? Don't tell me you've never seen an electric guitar before!"

Holmes looked puzzled also, "Electric guitars, eh? Interesting concept…"

Kaydence suddenly began to laugh uncontrollably. She dropped the spoon on the carpet, exciting the Labrador into a fit of barking. She clutched at her sides, collapsing in a heap opposite of Holmes. "You're absolutely ridiculous! You think I'll fall for a lie like that? Every person in their right mind has at least seen a picture of an electric guitar! What the fuck are you trying to accomplish!"

Holmes seized the opportunity to get up from the floor. "I assure you that I have never seen such a contraption before in my life. What are you laughing at?"

Kaydence got to her feet, her face red with mirth, "Damn, you criminals keep sinking lower and lower… Trying to convince me that you haven't seen an electric guitar before! Ha!"

Holmes's face assumed a very strange expression, "I… Explain to me where we are."

Kaydence whistled to her dog, which obediently scurried over to his master. "Just outside of Chicago. Where else would we be?"

Holmes's expression went from strange to just plain excited. He turned abruptly to Watson, who was standing quietly with his hands still up, "You do know what's happened don't you?"

Watson lowered his hands. "Not at all."

Holmes eyed Kaydence. "What year is it?"

Kaydence stared at him bemusedly, "… 2011."

Watson laughed, "You're joking, Miss Ballard! Right?"

Holmes said nothing but his energy was like lightning, filling the room with a static electricity that made both Watson's and Kaydence's hair stand on end. He bolted into the closet in one fluid motion, kneeling down on the dirty cement.

Kaydence grabbed her spoon up from the ground, "Damn! I knew you'd try to trick me!"

Watson tried to block Kaydence from launching herself at Holmes, "Stay back! He means no harm!"

She kneed Watson in the abdomen and flew at Holmes, "Damn you, you bastard!"

Holmes had no time to dodge the air attack from Kaydence. He was pinned to the floor by her strong arms and his legs were held in place with her feet. "Miss Ballard!"

"Don't 'Miss Ballard' me!" she spat, glaring at him, "What's in that closet that you want so bad?"

"Do you want me to show you where it is?" Holmes asked coolly. "I promise that I won't lay a finger on it."

"I'll find it myself." Kaydence snarled, pushing Holmes to the side and clambering into the closet. She ran her hands along the cold cement until she found a metal stick that was lying in the back of the small space. She waved it in front of Holmes's nose, "Is this what you were looking for?"

Holmes nodded, reaching for the rod. Kaydence pulled it back swiftly, "Ah, ah, ah… I see it first. It could be dangerous."

Holmes and Watson waited patiently as she examined the S.T.I.C.C. She seemed very interested in the small metal device.

"So you used the reaction between silicic acid and aluminum metallic powder to power this thing? I've been wanting to try that reaction myself." She talked to Holmes and Watson very scientifically, as if she was some sort of expert on chemicals.

Holmes's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, "Yes… But how did you figure that out?"

She shrugged, "Well first of all, we learn that sort of thing in high school. Plus, I kind of dabble in chemicals."

"Fascinating." Holmes whispered, clearly amazed.

She threw the S.T.I.C.C. into one of the corners. "Without those chemicals, that stick isn't dangerous at all. Now, would either of you like to explain to me how you got here and why you're in my basement?"

She ushered them to the sofa in the middle of the room and sat them both down. Kaydence then went and turned on all of the lights so that she could see them both better.

Watson raised an eyebrow, "Why the sudden change of heart, Miss Ballard?"

"Easy!" She replied. "Once I saw the clothes you were wearing, Mr. Holmes's expression when I told him it was 2011, and the way you spoke, it was pretty obvious that you aren't from here."

Holmes looked at her appraisingly. "Very good. We are from the late 19th century. 1887, to be exact. I am Sherlock Holmes, private detective, and this is my friend Dr. John Watson."

"So you are real…" She mused.

Watson looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"You see," she explained, "most people in the 21st century think that you are fictional characters created by Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle, a famous writer. It must have been both a time warp and a dimensional warp... Unless you really were real people."

"You are handling this very well." Holmes remarked.

"Oh, I'm just good at controlling myself." Kaydence nodded. "I'm actually screaming on the inside."

"Why?" Watson inquired, laughing.

"Because, I'm what we call a "fangirl" in the 21st century. That means that I'm obsessed with something. In this case, I am a fangirl of the book "Sherlock Holmes", and the movie as well. I'm a fangirl of many other things, however, so don't think you're special or something." She said the last part with a grin on her face.

Holmes had to chuckle. "You are an interesting specimen."

She rolled her eyes. "Great, now I'm being nicknamed after a scientific word. How adorable!"

Holmes looked uncomfortable, "Yes… Well, might I ask you about yourself?"

She stared deep into his eyes, "I won't tell you anything about myself. Use your observation skills."

He matched her gaze flawlessly. "Very well."

-Holmes's POV-

_Hm… Blue-gray eyes… She does not hesitate or break eye contact. Her gaze is a bit extreme. Confident… A teacher, maybe?_

Watson gulped from his position next to me. He was most likely thinking that this situation would turn out with me getting my ass handed to me by a woman again.

I bit my lip and let my eyes take in every small detail of this woman on the couch.She was wearing some flannel pants and a shirt that read "Michigan State" on it. There was a small rip at the bottom of the pants, showing that her dog had chewed on it at one time or another. _Not very organized. _Her hair was blonde and slightly wavy. Her pose was one of confidence and her gaze was that of a teacher surveying students. _Trained as a teacher, but not working. _She had ink splattered all over her right hand and a number of pencil marks on both of her hands. _Right handed. Enjoys writing and drawing, but grading papers takes up a lot of time. A perfectionist, it seems. Recently cutting back on workload. _She had a bruise on the side of her shoulder. _Martial arts—maybe kung fu? Bruise caused by a bared fist. Boxing also? _Her hands were calloused, especially on the fingertips of her right hand. _Used to physical work… Plays the guitar left-handed even though she is right handed. _She had a small cut next to her left eye, most likely left by an animal. _Loves animals… except for cats. _There were bags under her eyes, but her eyes were alert and focused. _Hasn't been getting enough sleep lately because of her work schedule. Used to little sleep but really enjoys to sleep. _There was a small tattoo of a Japanese character on her collarbone. _Enjoys Japanese culture… Strange… Doesn't look Japanese. _She was also very beautiful, in a subdued sense. _What the hell? Why am I thinking like that? _There wasn't a ring on her left hand, but there was a Claudaugh ring on her right hand. _Irish heritage, unmarried, and not courting. Very good… Wait, what?_

I shook my head to disperse the thoughts that were plaguing the rationality of my mind. I had barely met the woman… Could it be that all 21st century women were like this? Did they all threaten to shatter the carefully crafted years of logic and sensibility that I had concentrated on building my entire life?

She poked me on the shoulder to snap me out of my daze. "Well?"

I caught her eye, and immediately let the deductive part of my mind take control of the situation. "You are a teacher. Out of work, at the moment, and not searching for a job. Why, I haven't the slightest idea, but that tells me that either you are on some sort of leave or you have recently come into some money. You do martial arts—namely Kung Fu, and you box with people twice your size. You used to work on a farm when you were young…but not an animal farm. A flower nursery, if I am correct. You are a musical enthusiast and you play both the piano and the guitar effortlessly, and you collect musical memorabilia. You have trained yourself to wake up early, but you still hate waking up before six. You love animals, other than cats because of a run in with a cat when you were young. You are a Japanese culture enthusiast, but you are not Japanese in the slightest… Your heritage is Irish, judging from the ring on your finger, and other miscellaneous European nationalities including… German? You are also very—"

I cut myself off before that damn emotional part of my brain seized control from my rational side. I cleared my throat. "Erm, yes. That was all I could think of."

Her expression was one of sincere admiration. "That was…"

I couldn't help but be curious to her response. "Was what?"

She laughed out loud. "That was fucking amazing!"

I grinned up at her. 21st century women were certainly very outspoken. I had to admit that it was much more enjoyable having a woman who would curse and laugh and speak her mind in front of you than having to put up with those bores of my century.

Watson watched her with a smile on his face. "I don't think that Holmes has ever gotten a response to his deductive skills quite like that one."

She flopped down on the couch next to me, smile still plastered on her face. "Well then, thank you for allowing me to be the first to react in the proper fashion!"

Her dog, which had somehow fallen asleep in a dog bed near one of the walls, walked over to where I was sitting and put his head on my knee. He was quite… I didn't exactly know the word to describe him.

Kaydence smiled at me. "I think that Ringo likes you."

Watson began to snicker from his side of the couch. "Don't try any experiments on him, Holmes! Miss Ballard just might murder you while you sleep!"

Kaydence smirked. "Damn right I will. And please, call me Kay. Miss makes me sound old. I hear enough of it during school."

I smiled. She was proving to be a very enjoyable person.

-Kay's POV-

_Holy shit! Sherlock Holmes and Watson are in my basement! Holy shit! _

That phrase seemed to be the only thing my brain could process as I talked to the two men in my basement. The two _fictional _men in my basement.

"So, I'm guessing you two have no place to stay, correct?" I asked.

Holmes and Watson simultaneously shook their heads.

"Well, you'll have to stay with me and endure the torture that is RINGO!" I yelled the last part, exciting my already excited dog into hysterical fits of jumping and barking.

Watson grimaced and covered his ears, "He's very loud isn't he?"

"That's one thing we both have in common!" I remarked, laughing at the disgruntled expression on both of their face. "Now, come on guys. You two can share the living room. It's hopelessly messy, but you'll manage just fine if you clear away some of the crap and the research papers."

I led them upstairs and showed them the living room. "Mr. Watson, you can have the couch, and Mr. Holmes, you get the floor."

Holmes shocked me by collapsing into a heap on the carpet. "Just like home..." He turned a curious face towards me. "But why does he get the couch?"

"Maybe I like him better. Anyways, Ringo will keep you company!" I left him abruptly, and he was still sprawled out on the floor, puzzled, smirking, and trying to figure out whether or not I was joking.

I couldn't help laughing as I clambered back into bed. _This was going to be one hell of a party! _


	3. Chapter 3

**AGH! You guys, I'm SO sorry for making you wait this long! ****(Shame) I'm graduating tomorrow, and I've been getting slammed with reports and homework and all that going-into-high-school stuff. I went to Denver over the weekend too, so I couldn't post this. Plus, I got accepted into this "special program" called the Academy, so my going-into-high-school workload has pretty much been double that what everyone else is doing. (Sigh) =_= EXCUSES! Anyways, thanks for being such great supporters and since my summer break starts tomorrow, you can count on pretty consistent updates! Here, my best friend AkiraWolfWriter888 makes a guest appearance! Hope you like it if you're reading it AWW888! :D Alright, I'll end this overly long author's note and you guys can read the chapter! THANKS AGAIN! :DDD**

**-AUHolmes **

**I ownz nothing…Though if I did own Holmes (censored) ^w^ **

**Chapter 3 **

-Kay's POV-

I woke up in unusually high spirits. I'm usually complaining: _Ugh…I need some coffee. But I hate coffee! What else is caffeinated and drinkable in the morning? Damn… _But today, I was as awake and alert as a 27-year-old night owl can be.

I rolled out of bed and called for Ringo. He normally comes bounding up the stairs when he hears the slightest whistle escape my lips, but he didn't seem to be answering at the moment. _That _alarmed me.

"Ringo!" I bellowed. "RINGO!"

Still no answer. I hurriedly tied my hair back and scrambled to the stairway, still calling my Labrador's name.

I slid down the banister (as was my preferred way of getting down the stairs), stopping deftly on the landing.

I turned towards the kitchen, and—_Damn_…

Holmes and Watson, already alert and completely awake, stood next to the toaster, watching in fascination as two seemingly charcoaled pieces of toast sprang up from the machine. Around the two 19th-century gentlemen was a scene that deserved to be described by Douglas Adams. Various snack-foods and sliced-up vegetables littered the tabletops; the oven, the microwave, and the blender were on full power, and something white and sticky had exploded all over the island in the center of the kitchen. More than 10 various condiments and salad dressings had been dumped into a bowl and mixed around with a whisk, then put in the blender. My large collection of cookbooks was completely out of order, and I could tell that either Holmes or Watson had been attempting to make a couple of the recipes, as three of the pages were covered in…mayonnaise? There was peanut butter on the ceiling next to the hanging light fixture, and there was a fire—a _very _large fire—beginning to spread from the scorching hot pan full of olive oil on the stove to the picture my niece had drawn me on the wall. And Ringo, stuck in the middle of it all, was watching attentively as Holmes began prodding the scorched pieces of toast with a plastic Spork.

After the initial shock wore off, my holy-crap-my-kitchen-is-on-fire-and-my-dog-is-in-the-middle-of-it senses kicked in, causing me to scramble into the kitchen and punch Holmes in the face.

He reeled backwards in utter shock and pain as my fist collided with his cheek. As he grabbed onto the island to keep himself from falling over, he turned his shocked face to me, "What in God's name was that for?"

I headed over to Ringo to see if he was safe. After assuring myself that there was nothing wrong with my Labrador and hastily unplugging all the electronic devices with the exception of my refrigerator, I turned back to the incredulous Holmes. "YOU SET MY KITCHEN ON FIRE!"

Holmes raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I was merely trying to see if the chemicals in the preservatives in the—"

I cut him off angrily. "Do I really seem like I care about what you were trying to do? What I _do _care about is one: you emotionally scarred my dog! Two: you set my goddamned kitchen on FIRE! And three: You used up the last of my peanut butter!"

Watson blushed slightly. "I'm very sorry, Kay… but the odd contraptions here are completely riveting!"

Holmes nodded. "Watson and I were quite confused at the practical use of these gadgets, so we tried to figure it out ourselves!"

I surveyed the damage done to my kitchen, then laughed sarcastically at Holmes, "I can tell that it was a success!"

Holmes frowned. "There's no need to be so sarcastic about this sort of thing…it's fascinating! You must explain it to me!"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, thinking, "_Okay…the landlord won't be very happy about the fire, but if I rally and get help from these two, I can clean it up. Wait, why didn't the fire alarm go off? Oh yeah, I forgot to switch the batteries. That's dangerous, isn't it? Oh damn…Tari is coming over today!_

Holmes tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting my train of thought. I looked up at him, grimacing in annoyance. "What?"

He pointed at the telephone hanging on the wall. "What does that contraption do?"

"Well…it allows people from all over the world to communicate by using electromagnetic waves or something like that. I'll pick you up a book on it," I muttered, trying to think of a somewhat intelligent answer to his question. I was never very good with electronics.

"Fascinating," he whispered, eyes wide with awe. "That completely explains why I heard a voice coming from it this morning!"

My mouth dropped off its hinges. "Y-you answered my phone?"

Holmes nodded, "Yes! There was a strange ringing coming from the holes at the top of the tefelone, so I decided that I would pick it up and address the problem myself."

"It's a _telephone. _And who was it?" I sputtered.

Watson jumped into our conservation. "It was a woman called Tari Giordano!"

_Oh, shit… she's called already! Curse her being an early-morning-person!_

I tried to keep myself from freaking out, "Well, what did you say to her?"

Holmes nonchalantly ran a hand through his wavy dark brown hair. "I introduced myself, of course."

Watson sniggered next to him, "You did no such thing! You swore then threw the phone thing across the room at me screaming, 'Watson! What do you make of this?' _I _introduced myself."

"Guys," I said quietly, still fighting to keep my inner freak-out from roaring its ugly head, "will you stop fighting about who introduced themselves properly or whatever, and tell me what the hell you said to her and what she said to you?"

Holmes grabbed an apple off the counter and began eating it slowly. "She seemed to think that you were playing a trick on her. Then she uttered some of the oddest phrases that I have ever heard…"

"Which were?" I pressed.

Watson strolled over to the island in the middle of the kitchen and began fumbling around for something, talking quietly to himself, "I wrote it down and put it somewhere!" He searched frantically for a couple more minutes before locating a scrap of white paper and reading it aloud. "'Kaydence Marie Ballard, you are such a crazed be-yotch! Why are you going all Sherlock Holmes-otaku on me? Are you high on chocolate again? Dude, I know you're not frigging Sherlock Holmes! But hell, you nailed that British accent! You sound like Iggy! Hey, when I come over do you wanna watch Hetalia? I got a crap-ton of epic vids and other shit that Imma bring over, 'kay?'"

I fought back a fit of laughter at hearing Watson read Tarin's ridiculous language in his clipped British accent. _That's so Tarin… _

Holmes sat in one of the bar stools that I have next to the island, pondering my friend's tirade with a confused expression on his face. "What could that possibly mean? It barely sounds like English!"

I grinned. "Welcome to the 21st Century, Holmes! Basically everyone talks somewhat like that…"

His eyes became thoughtful, dark orbs. "Intriguing…"

Watson opened the microwave. "What about this thing?"

I rested my head in my hands. "That heats food up and makes popcorn."

"Popcorn?" Holmes and Watson inquired simultaneously.

"Yeah, it's really good," I laughed. "I'll make you guys some later! But right now, you have to help me clean this kitchen up before my landlord finds out about the fire and gets pissed."

Holmes sprang up from the chair. "You have an evil nanny also?"

"If that's what you call landlords, then yes. Except that my landlord is a guy," I explained, grinning at Holmes. "Now, help me clean up this damned mess!"

I went under the cabinet and fished out some Windex and other bottles of cleaning supplies. I threw the Windex and a rag to Holmes. "You get to clean all the windows! After that, it'd be good if you take out the trash."

Holmes sniffed the blue liquid, wrinkling his nose. "What's this?"

I bit back a laugh at his adorable expression. "It's called Windex. We use it to clean glass and windows and other things. It's ammonia based, I think…I haven't read the back of the label in a long time."

Holmes nodded and began soaking the windows with the chemical and wiping them vigorously.

Watson whistled slightly. "Wow…I haven't seen him doing manual labor without being on a case in ages. This could be considered a miracle!"

I tossed Watson another rag and some granite cleaner, smiling slightly. "Here. You get to clean the countertops and put the salvageable food back in the fridge."

He silently went to work, scrubbing at what looked like melted marshmallow passionately.

Nervous about more dangerous situations involving my precious Labrador, I sent Ringo downstairs so he wouldn't interfere in the purging of my kitchen. Then, I immediately climbed on a section of the counter that Watson wasn't cleaning and began scraping the peanut butter and other miscellaneous foods off of my white ceiling with a paper towel.

After a couple minutes of cleaning in silence, Holmes sauntered over to my perch on the tabletop and held up the empty bottle of Windex. "I believe that I need a new bottle of this Windex."

I took the empty container, which had been completely full just minutes ago, "Holmes...you do realize that this was a new bottle, right? Are you done with the windows?"

Holmes shook his head, "Sadly, no. I've actually only completed the washing of two windows."

I smacked him with the bottle, "You idiot! You used a whole bottle of Windex on _two windows_?"

He jabbed at me playfully, though his expression was puzzled, "Well, of course! Your windows are absolutely filthy!"

I hit him with the Windex container again, "I'll have you know that my home is clean enough for freaking royalty to live in!"

"Oh, yes," he retorted sarcastically, grinning, "I'm sure that the king and queen of Filthland would be absolutely at home here among the mutant rats and the dust!"

Instead of slamming him with the bottle of Windex, I kicked him in the chest decisively. "Just finish cleaning the damned windows!"

He cast one more infuriating glance in my direction and went back to wiping the windows with the Windex-soaked rag.

After I finished washing the ceiling, I climbed down to help Watson clear the rest of the condiments and foodstuffs from the now immaculate counters.

I looked appraisingly at him. "You work fast for a guy, Watson."

He gestured towards Holmes. "I live with him, Kay. I am forced to clean well so that I don't come down with some sort of illness related to his experiments."

I clapped him gently on the shoulder, "Stay strong, Watson. Stay strong."

I looked at the opposite counter to see Holmes clambering over the sink to wipe the last window.

"You could just walk on the floor, Holmes," I pointed out.

"This is much quicker, believe me," he said pointedly, once again fully concentrating on scrubbing the dirt off the window.

I sighed and walked over to the stove to remove the pan of oil from the burner. "Hey, Holmes!"

He looked over at me, one eyebrow raised, "Yes?"

I emptied the pan of oil and pointed the pan at him, "I get that you're from the 19th century and everything, but it's not uncommon knowledge that when you put a pan of oil on a burner—and yes, I know that you _do _have stoves in the 1800s—it starts on fire. Yet, you _still _did it. What inspired that stroke of genius?"

Before Holmes could answer, Watson sighed audibly. "Holmes happens to be a pyromaniac. He attains a strange sense of joy when he sets fires. I expect that's the reason that he did something that stupid."

Holmes expression turned stony. "I can answer questions for myself, Watson."

I looked intently at Holmes. "Well?"

Holmes appeared to pore over his answer for a moment. After deciding on the manner he would answer in, he looked at me with a smug grin on his face. "I was determining the amount of time that it would take to set a pan of half a cup of virgin olive oil on fire at medium heat. My hypothesis: if the heat is approximately 110 degrees Celsius, then the oil will catch on fire in exactly 7 minutes and 41 seconds."

Deciding that I wouldn't get a legitimate answer from Holmes, I tugged on my hair impatiently out of habit. "Fine. We just ha—"

The clanging ring of the doorbell suddenly interrupted me mid-sentence.

I walked slowly to the door and peeked through the small peephole at the top of my door. To my growing horror, I found that Tarin Giordano was standing at the step waiting impatiently.

_Is it 11:00AM already? _

"Holmes and Watson," I called urgently, "go downstairs for a minute!"

Watson stuck his head through the doorway. "Is there something wrong?"

I nodded towards the door. "My friend Tarin—the one you talked to on the phone—is standing on the doorstep and SHE THINKS YOU'RE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS!"

Holmes joined Watson at the doorway. "Yes, that is a rather large problem."

"Thank you for being so helpful, Mr. Holmes," I spat at him.

Watson grabbed Holmes's collar and began dragging him down the stairs, "Come, old boy. We're going to stay in the basement until Tarin is gone."

Holmes grabbed at Watson's arms, hastily removing them from his collar. "I can walk by myself."

"If you say so, Holmes," Watson muttered, and began descending into the basement.

Holmes made to follow him but before he went downstairs, Holmes sneakily threw another empty bottle of Windex at my head. "I've finished cleaning the other three windows!" He smiled irritatingly and bounded down the steps after Watson.

I cursed him silently in my head, but then pushed the thought aside to concentrate on the more matter at hand: Tarin.

"Yo, Kay! Open the door!" she cried from the doorstep, hammering on the wooden door.

I inhaled deeply and pushed open the door. "Hello, Tari!"

She grinned. "About effing time!"

**I'm going to explain a couple things, because as I am an otaku, I might have put in some language that would be strange:**

**Douglas Adams- No, he's not related to anime or manga in any way. XD He's actually just one of my favorite comedy authors. I'd think most readers will have either heard of him or read his books. (I recommend them very highly!) **

**Otaku- An anime/ manga (Manga is Japanese comics, read backwards and with a totally awesome drawing style, and anime is the TV version of it) freak. We love Japan! **

**Hetalia- A personal favorite anime/ manga of mine. It involves personified countries and a lot of outrageous humor. If you don't get offended easily, check it out! :D **

**Well, I think that's it! Hope you enjoyed! R&R please! :DDD **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

**Hey guys! I'm trying to be committed to my goal of at least one update a week! Hope this pleases you! ;D This chapter is a bit of a filler but it's got some relevant information. I apologize in advance for the extreme use of American slang. ^^' My friends and I normally don't talk like that unless we're super excited. But in this, Tarin is always excited! XD I'm a bit displeased at how this chapter turned out… It's definitely not my best writing. I hope it isn't too bad! Also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, or favorited! It's much appreciated! :D I also have a question to ask all of you: I already know that Holmes and Kay are going to get together, but do you want Tarin and Watson together? Just brain food! Put your opinion in the form of a review! Tips/ suggestions are also appreciated! And by the way, there is another key at the end because I went all guitar-nerd on you all in part of the story. XD ^_^ Happy reading! :D**

**Disclaimer: I OWNZ NOTHING (with the exception of Kaydence and Tarin!)! **

**Random footnote: I rescued a turtle with AkiraWolfWriter888 the other day! His name is Crush. This chapter is dedicated to him! Hope you're doing well in the wild, Crush! ;D **

-Kay's POV-

Without another word, Tarin bounded into the kitchen and hopped effortlessly onto the island. She stared expectantly at me from her throne.

I shut the front door and padded over to the kitchen, biting my upper lip nervously. _What is she finds out about Holmes and Watson? Tarin can't keep a secret! _

"Hey, Kay," she called, waving her hand in front of my face, "you're all spacey today, aren't you? First that weird Sherlock Holmes outburst and then all that weird noise! What's up?"

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "N-nothing! How are you, Tari?"

She stared suspiciously at me for a second, and then launched herself into one of her world-famous rants. "So, I was at Alfred's, right? And we were having an awesome time and he was, like, so sweet! And then that bitch Rachel comes in and totally steals him away! And I was all like, 'Oh, no you didn't!' She's not even that, like, pretty! Plus she's a dumb-shit! Why, Alfred? I totally kicked Rachel's ass! Oh, and I brought over the first two seasons of Hetalia! You got dibs on Austria, right? America is mine!" She squealed like the fangirl she was. As I listened I tried to wrap my mind around her rapid-fire tirade, but it was proving difficult. Tarin speaks so quickly that I'm surprised that I can understand her half the time. She tapped me on the shoulder. "By the way, do you, like, notice anything _different _about me?"

I stared stupidly at my best friend. Her hair was still dark brown, long, and slightly wavy, and she still had a barrette in her hair with a ladybug on it that I gave to her in the 4th grade at a Girl Scout party. Her chocolate brown eyes were, as always, hidden behind hot pink glasses, and her skin was as tan as it ever had been. She was wearing her favorite tie-die Grateful Dead T-shirt with a faded leather biker jacket and dark jeans. She also had on cowboy boots and she wore an amethyst satchel over her left shoulder that was most likely crammed with manga and other strange things.

After examining her for roughly a minute, I finally figured out what the difference was. I couldn't help but squeal, "You got your ears pierced?"

"I KNOW, RIGHT!" she screamed ecstatically.

I jumped up and down in joy, my inner-teenager getting the better of me. "Oh my God, Tarin! That's so awesome! When did you decide that you were finally gonna man up and freaking do it?"

She shrugged slightly. "Like, yesterday. I was walking past that Claire's shop, and I was all like, 'Hey, I know I was, like, a total chicken when I was younger over getting my ears pierced, so why don't I just do it today?' So, I totally went in there and did it! And I got a free stuffed monkey!"

I grinned happily. "That's epic! How's work?"

"Glad you asked," she gushed. She began rummaging around in her bag for something. When she finally pulled it out, she threw it at me. "Catch!"

I caught the rectangular object clumsily, realizing that it was a hard cover book, and spun it around to look at the cover. The cover was a dark blue and had a picture of the stars. I could make out the constellations Orion and the Big Dipper. The title was splayed out across the title in huge white spindly letters. It read, "Starchildren". I gasped loudly when I saw the heading. "DUDE! YOU GOT YOUR BOOK PUBLISHED AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

She raised one eyebrow mischievously. "Maybe…"

I hit her on the arm with the book. "Dammit, Tarin! That's great news! How are sales?"

She fished around in her bag and pulled out a stick of bubble gum, poking it into her mouth and beginning to chew. "It's doing really well. Actually, it's, like, on the Times Bestseller list at the moment. Number 9, I believe."

"O…M…J…" I whispered maniacally. "You've got a book on the Times!"

"Yes," she squeaked, looking at the floor. Her expression suddenly assumed a depressed look. She began another rant. "But I, like, swear…chapter 8 was too short and I should have characterized my main character more in that chapter! It reveals a lot about him. And I think I made the other main character totally too clingy. AGH! My writing is terrible in that book! I need to go to my publisher and make him reprint it with a new version! I could have made it so much better th—"

I cut her off. "Tarin! Shut up already! If your book is Number 9 on the Times Bestseller list, it's obviously amazing! So stop going emo about your book! I'm sure it's fine!"

She wrapped her jacket tightly around her and lay down on the counter like a woman who had lost the will to live. "BUT IT'S TERRIBLE!"

"That's it," I cried, momentarily forgetting that Holmes and Watson were in the basement, "I'm taking you all out for dinner!"

She pulled herself out of her stupor and gazed, confused, at me. "Like, you all?"

I blanched and began stuttering nervously, "Yeah… y-you, m-me, and… your book."

"…Right…" Tarin agreed slowly, still staring at me like I was some sort of freak.

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while until Tarin broke it.

"How's your work?"

I smiled nervously, grateful for the change of subject. "It's going really well, actually! The kids in 10th grade this year are all great! They all listen really well and a couple of them show a lot of promise. Especially this kid Brody. He scored so high on his tests that they gave _me _a raise! Apparently, he really loves my class. There're always those who really don't give a shit about anything, but there are only two kids like that this year! Tim and Brittany are the only ones! I'm really glad that it's winter break, though. A whole two weeks of freedom…and grading papers."

Tarin laughed. "Sounds like a freaking blast! I don't know how you put up with kids though, seeing as you don't want any!"  
I held up a finger. "Correction: I love other peoples' kids, but it's way too much stress having kids of my own. Having a boyfriend is high stress too. That's why I don't have one of those!"

"I totally want a boyfriend, but all the best guys are anime characters," Tarin pouted. "Speaking of which, shall we watch Hetalia?"

"Sure," I agreed.

She hopped off the island and began making her way downstairs. I followed serenely until I remembered that Holmes and Watson were down there. _Oh, shit… _

"Tarin," I yelled as we were halfway down the stairs, "the TV downstairs is…broken!"

She scoffed, still creeping down the stairs. "I can fix it!"

"No, you can't," I disagreed, shaking my head vigorously. "Ringo peed on it."

She narrowed her eyes. "No he didn't! Ringo is the most well trained dog in, like, Chicago! He hasn't had an accident in 2 years! And he's freaking two and a half! You're hiding something!"

"What makes you think that?" I challenged, becoming self-protective.

"You're getting defensive," she pointed out, "You never get defensive unless you're hiding something!"

_Damn…she got me! _

I sighed pathetically. "Fine…I'll just have to show you!"

"That's more like it!"

I led her down into my dark cave of a basement and went to the corner that housed my most prized possession other than my Labrador: my 1962 cherry-red Fender Stratocaster with the strings reversed. It was a different model than Stratocaster that Jimi Hendrix used, but it was the same brand, and I had the strings reversed for the same reason that he had; I was a left-handed guitarist in a predominantly right-handed guitarist world, and I wanted to play on a great guitar without having to search _everywhere _for one.

Tarin waited impatiently behind me. She'd seen the Stratocaster about a million times, so it wasn't a big deal anymore. "Is something wrong with your guitar?"

_I'll lie and say that Ringo scratched it or something… Wait, where the hell did Watson, Holmes, and Ringo hide? I don't see them anywhere. But yeah…lie about the Stratocaster. _

I tried my best to look dejected. "Yeah…I was playing "Stairway to Heaven" and Ringo got all excited when I hit the solo and jumped up and scratched the guitar. I was ashamed of the way that it looked."

Tarin leaned in closer to my beautiful guitar. She narrowed her eyes. "I can't see, like, anything! Turn the lights on so I can see how bad the scratch is!"

_Fuck… that plan just shriveled up and died. I could knock her out! _

Tarin stared expectantly at me. "C'mon! Turn the lights on!"

I stood there, statuesque.

"Fine then," she shouted exasperatedly, "I'll turn 'em on myself!" She stood up and hastily found the light switch, flipping it on.

-Holmes's POV-

I desperately clung to the fiercely wriggling black Labrador in search of his master's friend, mentally commanding him to be still. We were back in the dark closet where Watson and I had found ourselves in the beginning of our escapade, and the dog was _not _making it any easier to hide from Kay's friend. Watson was crammed into the corner behind Ringo and I, and he didn't look very excited about it.

"Holmes," Watson hissed, "can you hear what they're saying?"

I listened attentively at the door for a moment, then replied, "Actually, they've stopped speaking at the moment. I think that Tarin has just turned on the lights and is looking at Kay's guitar for damage apparently caused by this mongrel."

Ringo ceased wriggling momentarily and looked at me reproachfully.

I was caught completely off guard. "What? Must I apologize for calling you a mongrel?"

The dog just stared at me for a second and then went back to squirming.

"I'm sorry," I muttered under my breath.

_This is why I am not an animal person! _

I could hear footsteps approaching the door. I whispered urgently to Watson and the dog, "She's coming! Both of you be quiet!"

I tried listening closer, their conversation jumping out at me like hyperactive fish in a pond.

"Kay, I don't see a scratch on this," Tarin pointed out.

I heard Kay cough slightly and edge closer to the door. Her voice was nervous as she retorted. "I-I could have sworn that there was one on the back of the neck by the 2nd fret!"

I didn't exactly know what she was planning, but I figured that it involved some sort of hitting.

_She really does seem to hit people a lot. _

"Hey, what's in that closet?" Tarin asked. I could hear her slightly lighter footsteps approach the door.

Watson spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Holmes...does Kay know that we're in here?"

I shook my head 'no' and resumed listening at the door crack. I tried to peer through the crevice, but to no avail.

Suddenly, Ringo whimpered loudly and slammed his tail against the wooden door.

I heard both Tarin and Kay shriek in shock.

Tarin swore. "Are you keeping Ringo in there? That's, like, animal abuse!"

Kay was stuttering again. "I-I didn't put him in there!"

Someone, most likely Tarin, yanked open the door forcefully, causing me to lose my balance and tumble out onto the floor with Watson and Ringo hot on my heels.

Tarin screamed, but Kay just groaned, "You guys! Couldn't you find a better hiding place than that?"

Watson grumbled from his position on the floor a couple feet away from me. "You didn't exactly give us much notice."

Tarin kicked me in the shoulder before I could process what was going on. "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in Kay's basement?"

I rolled away to avoid further attacks, then turned to face the dark haired woman. "Coincidentally, your friend also asked me that question yesterday. And even more coincidentally, she kicked me in the exact same place. My name is Sherlock Holmes, and the other man is my friend and associate, Dr. John Watson."

Kay was hitting her head against a wall in frustration. "Why couldn't you have hidden better?"

I scoffed at her. "Unless I'm misinformed, you were supposed to keep Tarin upstairs! This is _your _fault."

She walked over to where I was lying and crouched down, poking her right index finger into my chest threateningly. "I still blame you."

I grabbed her hand, staring seriously into her blue-gray eyes. "I'd appreciate if you'd stop doing that."

She shook my hand off and began poking me even harder in the chest. "Doing what?"

I groaned. "You are _so _irritating!"

She punched me firmly in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes! I'll take that as a compliment!"

"Be thankful that you aren't a man," I threatened, struggling to regain my breath. "It's against my code to harm women. If you were a man, you'd be dead."

She prodded me again. "I'll take you any day, Holmes!"

Watson and Tarin stood staring and Kaydence and I, identical smirks on their faces.

Kay and I simultaneously turned towards them and asked, "What?"

Tarin whispered something into Watson's ear, earning her a grin and a chuckle from my comrade.

I pulled myself up and sauntered over to the other two. "Having an enjoyable time?"

Kaydence followed me. "Tarin, you seem to be taking this really well…"

Tarin nodded at her. "Oh, I'm laughing hysterically on the inside. Don't worry about me! I, like, just can't believe that you'd go to all the trouble to have a Sherlock Holmes impersonator and a Watson impersonator come over and hide in the closet to convince me that Holmes and Watson are real!"

Kay, Watson, and I sighed loudly in frustration.

Tarin looked confused. "What? You can't expect me to believe that these guys are, like, the real Holmes and Watson!"

Kaydence pushed her down onto the sofa. "Actually, we do. Holmes, come here for a second."

I walked up to the blonde woman's side slowly.

She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her friend. I have to admit that I was surprised by the strength of her grip. It was like an iron vice…but, a rather pleasant one at that.

_No! No, no, no, no, no! Not this again! _

"Holmes," she commanded, "do your deduction thing with Tarin. That should be enough proof, shouldn't it, Tarin?"

Tarin nodded, her eyes still filled with doubt.

Though I, for some strange reason, was slightly disappointed when Kaydence withdrew her grip, I was ecstatic at the chance to deduce. I felt out of practice after all the excitement.

"Very well," I murmured, resting my head on a clenched fist and beginning to examine the woman in front of me.

**Holmes's deduction to come in the next chapter! Sorry to leave you hanging! ^w^ Anyways, here are a couple terms that I'm going to explain: **

**OMJ- My old History teacher used to say OMJ instead of OMG, so now we always use that instead! XD We actually don't know what it stands for, but it isn't Jesus. She told us that much! We speculate that it might stand for, "Oh my Jahosephet". XD **

"**You got dibs on Austria, right? America is mine!"- Austria is my favorite character from that anime/ manga Hetalia that I told you guys about last chapter. America is my best friend's. For her birthday, I actually made her a life-sized, cardboard cutout of America for her room. Not to brag or anything, but he looked pretty damn EPIC! XD **

**1962 Fender Stratocaster- A pretty valuable vintage guitar that I am bent on getting. I had to put it in here because I'm a guitar nerd, okay! XD Jimi Hendrix played a Stratocaster, but it was a later model.**

**Jimi Hendrix- I hope you know who he is, but just to give basic info: Jimi Hendrix was a super amazing, awesome lefty-guitarist who played between 1967-1970 before his death in 1970. He was fucking EPIC! I idolize both Hendrix and Paul McCartney because they're epic lefties! **

"**Stairway to Heaven"- A famous Led Zeppelin song. It's one of my favorite guitar parts of all time! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

**Hello, guys! I don't know if this chapter is a little late, but hopefully it's somewhat on time! ^_^ I've been really busy this week with my two jobs and all this other random crap that I'm doing. I just haven't had much time to sit down and write. So, if this chapter is bad, please blame it on my busy schedule (though I will still be in the corner of shame). Plus, now I'm all hyperactive because my dad got tickets for the Paul McCartney concert at Wrigley Field in Chicago on August 1****st****! 8DDDDDD (fangasms and dies) Sorry, just had to get that out! ^^' Anyways, I hope you enjoy it whether or not my writing sucks! The whole plot is really just starting in this chapter. There is a lot of bromance and fluff in this chapter too! I got all emotional and sappy! ;D And as to the length of the completed story…it'll probably be around 15-20 chapters. I know that's freakishly long, but you'll understand why in the next chapter! ;D Thanks for reading, subscribing, reviewing, etc.! Also, more reviews make me happier, and happier-me writes chapters and updates them faster! Just a little note! (Skips away singing) ^W^ **

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT KAYDENCE, TARIN, AND RINGO THE DOG! I DO NOT OWN HOLMES, WATSON, OR RINGO STARR EVEN THOUGH I TOTALLY WISH THAT I DID! **

**Random footnote: Since today is dancer4life1234's (AKA, my best bud Reg's) birthday, I shall dedicate this chapter to her! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DUDE! 8DDDD I HOPE YOU LIKE SAP AND BROMANCE! XDD **

-Holmes's POV-

My mind immediately threw itself into calculation mode. Her hair was messy and dark brown, almost the color or my own but slightly lighter. Her eyes were brown also, but more of a milk chocolate. They were glancing at Kaydence apprehensively. She was much quieter than she had been at first. _She seems quite shy when she's not talking. Her eyes are continuously darting towards the ground, however, so she must be quite nervous under other peoples' stares. But her manner of talking displays confidence and low levels of humility. Apparently she has nearly no shame. _She had hot pink glasses that framed her eyes, but were perched precariously on the tip of her nose at the moment. The lenses seemed to be of a very high prescription from the thickness and the slight magnification of her eyes. _Terrible eyesight. Pink glasses point to her not really caring what others think. _Her hands were clasped together, and she seemed to be kneading them slightly impatiently. My eyes were drawn to the ink on her right hand and how her right index finger was slightly longer than her left. _Right handed. Writes excessively, but tends to do it on a typewriter. Does not play any instrument except for…ukulele? There are slight calluses on her left hand, but they aren't prominent enough to be guitar or violin. _There was a strange, battered ladybug barrette in her hair. _Wears that odd ornament proudly. It was probably given to her by a close friend. Perhaps, Kaydence… _Her cotton shirt was brightly colored and had multi-colored cartoon bears linking hands and dancing around the earth. Printed above were the words "The Grateful Dead". _I'm assuming that the Grateful Dead is a musical act. She likes bright colors, and it seems that this shirt is rather worn. A musical enthusiast, but really only for this specific band. _She also had a leather jacket with "Harley-Davidson" splayed across the back in big, orange letters. _That is probably a company I am not familiar with… I know not what to make of that. _She was wearing cowboy boots and dark jeans with smudges of dirt, grass, and other materials. _Cowboys are animal herders, are they not? Surely, there aren't any more real cowboys. Probably just a style. Though it does point to her liking the outdoors and maybe even the areas near Mexico. She doesn't mind getting dirty either. _Her skin was tanned, but not from being outdoors. It was just a natural tan. In fact, she looked as if she had been staying indoors for a long while. There were bags under her eyes, but she looked completely alert. The bags looked permanent, though. _She's an insomniac. Her job has been taking up a lot of time, but she enjoys it excessively. Indoors for a lot of time also. Most likely an author. She is most definitely Italian, but the freckles on her nose point to a spot of Irish. _ Her purple bag was crammed with multiple books, and I could see a book poking out with Japanese characters on it. _Japanese culture enthusiast. She seems slightly disorganized. _There was coarse white dog hair on her shirt. _Fur from a smaller dog. Most likely a West Highland White Terrier. _

Kaydence tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting my train of thought. She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Done yet? We've been sitting here for about five minutes and all you've done is stare at her like a creep. It looked like you stopped breathing for a minute."

I shot her an annoyed look. "These things take time, Kay. And I assure you, I have been deducing, not staring at her like a 'creep'!"

Kaydence shrugged lightly and sunk back into the couch. "Whatever, Holmes. Just tell Tarin, already."

I swore under my breath and ran a hand through my hair. _Bloody impatient woman. _I turned towards Tarin. "Here is what I could deduce. You and Kay have been friends for a long time, and it was most likely she who gave you that hair ornament. You seem quiet and nervous but you are actually quite confident and proud. You don't care what others think of you. You write obsessively, and happen to be an author. This is partially helped by the fact that you are an insomniac, and you wake up much earlier than everyone else, giving you time to write. You have terrible eyesight, you play the ukulele, and you write most of your stories on a typewriter. You don't mind getting dirty and you love the outdoors, but you tend to stay indoors and write most of the time. You also love this band called the Grateful Dead, and your job. You are slightly disorganized, but not as much so as Kaydence." This remark earned me a punch in the shoulder from the blonde woman, but I pressed on. "You love Japanese culture, but you yourself are Italian with a hint of Irish. I couldn't make much of your jacket, but I don't know any companies here, so that is probably why. Lastly, you own a West Highland White Terrier."

I looked around to gauge everyone's reactions. Watson looked mildly surprised, but that was most likely because he had seen me deduce so many other people that this was nothing new to him. Kaydence smiled proudly, causing my stomach to drop slightly, as if I were falling off a small cliff. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation… _What in God's name is going on here? Why am I behaving like a love-struck puppy-dog? _Tearing my eyes away from Kaydence, I saw Tarin gawking at me, her eyes wide open and her mouth on the floor.

"Well?" Watson prompted, also looking at Tarin.

Tarin struggled with words for a few seconds then launched into a lightning fast tirade. "OMJ, OMJ, OMJ, OMJ! How did you do that, you crazy stalker? Am I, like, that obvious? Are you really Holmes and Watson? That was, like, totally awesome!" She stammered unintelligibly in shock and surprise for another minute until Kaydence nudged her in the shoulder, laughing hysterically. "Dude, shut up!"

Tarin stopped talking abruptly, and stared at the floor in complete silence for a moment.

Watson looked slightly worried. "Tarin? Are you doing well?"

Tarin didn't answer.

I looked at Kaydence. "Is she alright?"

The blonde tapped her on the shoulder a couple of times. "Tarin! Dude, are you okay? Was that too much shock for one day?"

Tarin slowly looked up and turned towards Kay, Watson, and I. Her voice was quiet. "I-I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Watson inquired.

Her eyes suddenly became panicked. "I FORGOT A PARAGRAPH IN CHAPTER FOUR!"

Watson and I exchanged confused looks.

Kaydence walked towards her guitar and motioned for both of us to come towards her as her friend began pacing back and forth in agitation with Ringo following her happily. "Tarin recently wrote a book and she is really picky about how she writes. If she remembers something that she wanted put in and didn't, or if she thinks that she wrote something badly, she'll go emo."

I narrowed my eyes in puzzlement. "…Emo?"

"Shit," she muttered to herself, "I keep forgetting you guys aren't from 2011!"

Watson cringed as Tarin swore and then tripped over a box. "Well what is it?"

Kaydence sighed. "An emo is someone who is sensitive about everything. Like, _supersensitive."_

"Ah," I said shortly. "That makes sense."

Kaydence sighed. "I'm going to go snap her out of it. Meet us upstairs in five minutes." She brushed past Watson and I and went to stop Tarin from completely destroying her basement. Ringo bounded after her.

We both watched her expertly grab Tarin's jacket and drag her upstairs, but, apparently, my eyes stayed trained on Kaydence for too long.

Watson stared incredulously at me. "Holmes, why were you staring at Kay?"

I could feel a dull flush creeping up my face, so I walked towards the couch and made a big deal of searching for something under it. "I w-wasn't! What could have possibly made you think that I was, Watson?"

Watson strolled over to where I was standing and grinned infuriatingly at me. "Holmes…you fancy her!"

I scoffed loudly. "I do not!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

"_YES!" _

"_NO!" _

Watson grabbed my shoulder. "Holmes! It's fine if you fancy her! Why are you getting defensive?"

I forced the flush on my cheeks to disappear and sat down on the couch calmly. "Watson, I do _not _fancy her! She was kind enough to let us stay in her home, and I am merely grateful for her hospitality!"

My comrade stood next to me looking thoughtful. "I suppose I might have overreacted. She is quite pretty."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you for understanding, Watson. I'd dare call her beautiful."

Watson eyed me suspiciously. "It isn't like you to call a woman beautiful. Is something wrong, Holmes?"

I shook my head sharply. "Nothing, old boy. Nothing. I am just in awe of this new world that we have stumbled into. Everything's different. Women included…"

My friend nodded softly in agreement. "I quite agree, Holmes. Can I ask you some questions?"

I smiled at him. "Of course, Watson!"

"What do you think is the best part of us coming here?"

"Meeting Kay—" I began, then coughed and began another sentence. "Discovering all this new technology."

Watson didn't seem to notice my blunder, but his eyes had a strange glint in them. "Right. What is your first memory after us falling out of that closet?"

My stupid emotional half of my brain kicked in. "Her eyes."

"Excuse me?" Watson inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"The bright _lights._" I emphasized nervously. _That doesn't even rhyme… Damn emotions! Why is he asking these questions, anyways? And more importantly, why can't I answer them intelligently? _

"One more thing," Watson pressed. "Do you fancy Kaydence?"

"Well, ye—" I started.

Watson grinned at me in triumph. "I knew you did, Holmes! I _knew _it!"

I could feel my hands shaking in anger at being tricked. "Oh, go bugger off, Watson! I do not fancy Kaydence Ballard!"

Watson shoved his hands in his pockets, and then sat on the couch. He was quiet for a moment before he caught my eye mischievously. "Holmes, I have a deal for you."

"Watson," I lectured, trying to get out of the conversation, "this is hardly a time for wagering! We should get upstairs before Kaydence and Tarin wonder where we are."

"Do you remember the argument that we had that brought us here?" Watson suddenly asked.

"Of course I do," I snapped.

"I," he began slowly, "am prepared to tell you who I was in a fight with. But _only _if you admit your feelings for Kaydence."

_Watson, you sly fox… _

I pondered over the deal for a moment. _It wouldn't be too bad…after all, Watson has been my friend for years! He knows me better than anyone. But I cannot allow petty emotions such as love cloud my judgment. It would only ruin me. I could find out who Watson fought with though…fine, I'll do it. _

"So, are you in?" Watson queried, folding his hands so that his fingertips touched lightly.

I swore loudly then threw myself down on the couch. "Very well. You go first…"

Watson cleared his throat and I could see the beginnings of beads of sweat starting to form on his brow. "I-I had been out with Mary. We had had a very pleasant night and I was escorting her home when we got in an argument over the stupidest thing. I barely remember what it was about. Anyways, she fairly screamed at me and ran for home. I thought she was overreacting, so I ran after her to try and calm her down, but when I got to her house, instead of seeing Mary on the doorstep, I saw her older brother James. I asked where Mary was, but he wouldn't tell me. I tried to force my way past him, but he's a big lad. He threw me off the doorstep and onto the pavement, and we fought." He cleared his throat with effort once again. This was obviously troubling him. "I was actually winning for a while, but then he somehow found some of his friends and they ganged up on me and beat on me for the good part of an hour. They left me on the pavement and went home at around 10. I somehow got back to Baker Street and got into my room without you noticing."

"I wouldn't have noticed," I murmured, "I'd taken a rather large dose of cocaine that night."

Watson coughed slightly. "And th-that's it!" He laughed humorlessly.

I was shocked that Watson hadn't told me anything. "My dear Watson," I frowned, "why didn't you tell me of this?"

"You hate Mary enough as it is," he said quickly, "I didn't want you to overreact!"

"They beat you up and left you on the street," I spat angrily. "I'm your best friend, Watson! I have a right to know!"

"I can take care of myself, Holmes!" Watson yelled furiously. "You are not my keeper! My business is my own!"

I stuttered in anger. "N-no! I am n-not your keeper, but I am your brother!"

An awkward silence encroached upon our conversation.

_I should not have said that… _

Watson smiled bitterly and broke the silence. "I suppose you could say that, Holmes, but please…just stay out of my business."

I couldn't help but feel a small pang of sadness at his obvious disagreement with my previous statement. "W-well then, Watson. I shall try to stay out of your business."

Watson nodded absentmindedly. "Good."

We both stared idly at the walls for what must have been five minutes before Watson decided to break the silence yet again. "Holmes…now you have to keep your side of the agreement."

I nodded slightly. "What exactly do you want me to admit?"

Watson shrugged lightly. "Just tell me what you find so captivating about her."

Before my logical brain took over, the smaller, underdeveloped emotional part of it seized control. "Everything. She's just so completely different that anyone I've ever met."

Watson sighed. "Be more specific, Holmes! I am a doctor—I want details!"

"Fine," I agreed, searching my mind for the right words. "She's a woman but she's infuriating and annoying! She has the mouth of a sailor, she's passably violent, she can take care of herself, she is sarcastic, she has a temper that can't be controlled most of the time, and she doesn't give in to anyone or anything but her dog. She is loyal, street-smart as well as book-smart, and completely unpredictable. Happy now, Doctor?"

He smiled slightly at me. "You've got it bad, Holmes…"

"Got what?" I asked.

"Love, infatuation, whatever it is that you want to call it. Most people would see half of those as flaws," he laughed cheekily.

"I'm not in love," I argued, standing up. "It's just a phase!"

Watson stood up and put a comforting hand on my forearm. "Come, Holmes. Let's go upstairs before they think that we've killed ourselves by accident."

I smirked. "Or willingly."

We walked upstairs quickly. Kay and Tarin were sitting at the island reading some sort of book with pictures in it.

Kaydence looked up at the sound of Watson's and my entering the kitchen. She smiled happily. "Hi, boys! We didn't know what happened to you guys!"

Watson bowed politely. "Just old friends talking."

Tarin tore herself from her reading material. "What about?"

I coughed nervously. "Just what we're supposed to do now that we're stranded here."

Watson's grip on my forearm tightened momentarily and I could tell that he was trying to convey his gratitude for my coming up with an excuse.

Tarin and Kay shut their books and looked at us. Kaydence leaned over and whispered something in Tarin's ear. Tarin chuckled and nodded vigorously.

"What was that about?" I inquired, wondering why they were being so secretive.

Kaydence raised her eyebrows. "Oh, we just think that you two were doing a little more that just talking…"

Watson's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

Tarin pointed at Watson's grasp on my arm. "What's that for?"

"What do you—" I began.

Tarin and Kaydence burst out laughing before I could finish speaking. "IT'S A BROMANCE!"

Watson and I exchanged shocked glances and began stuttering in protest together as my friend hastily withdrew his grip on my arm.

Tarin held up a hand, motioning for us to quiet. "Don't try to fight it…embrace your bromance!"

"C-can we p-please just talk about how we're g-going to survive in this century until we can g-get home?" Watson stammered.

Kaydence nodded. "Actually, Tari and I have been talking about that!"

"What have you thought of?" I asked, trying to fight the heated flush from climbing up my cheeks.

"We've decided," Kaydence explained, "that we're going to teach you how to live in the 21st Century without dying with a series of lessons!"

"That's all fine and good," Watson agreed, "but how are we going to get home?"

Tarin waved her hand dismissively. "We'll, like, totally figure that out later!"

"So what are we going to do now?" I inquired. "Are we starting on any of the lessons?"

Both Kay and Tarin shook their heads no.

Tarin grinned at me. "Right now, all we're, like, doing is prep!"

Watson tilted his head to the side. "What's prep?"

Kaydence took a deep breath and read everything off of a list that she and Tarin had apparently compiled. "Getting books, shoes, clothes, worksheets, movies, cool pens, more anime, phones, iPods, licenses, and computers."

"That sounds like it costs an obscene amount of money!" I protested.

Tarin pointed to herself and made an attempt to flip her hair. "That's why I'm coming with! Kay doesn't have enough money for all this, but _I _am a bestselling author!"

"And now," Kay shouted, "to the mall!"

Tarin and she scrambled out the door and Watson and I ran to keep up.

Outside, there was a huge mechanical device that looked as if someone was supposed to control it using the wheel attached to the front of it. It looked suspiciously like an automobile, but so much more advanced that it _had _to be something completely different.

Watson stared at the mechanical thing also. "K-kay…what is that?"

Tarin took out a set of keys and pressed a button. "This baby is my ride!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Hi everyone! :D I know that this chapter is on time, so I'm really proud of myself! 8DDDDDDD I hope I met the comedy requirements. I was having a bit of a creative slump so I wrote the best comedy I could and some fluff. ^^' Anyways, this is another chapter where someone I know guest stars. Most people are probably like, "OMJ, what's she doing putting all these other FFNers in her story? WHEN WILL IT END?" I will tell you now: In this chapter, dancer4life1234 (I dedicated the chapter to her last time) will appear, then in the next couple of chapters, another friend (she's on FFN, I am just blanking on her username at the moment ^^') and hetalialuuver4ever (WHO STILL NEEDS TO READ THIS) will appear. That's it! I promise that no one else will randomly come in! XDDD (sigh) This chapter is all about Holmes's and Watson's (angel with a harp comes down on a double rainbow while the sky rains sparkles and sings) **_**transformations! **_**I have an entire plot summary right here for you guys! It'll hopefully clear up any confuzzlement you might have! And since my birthday is today, I thought you guys might want a treat! (Puts out virtual cookies for readers to enjoy while they read) ^_^ Thanks for reviewing, subscribing, reading, and everything else you guys have done for my story! (glomps all awesome people who have read this) **

**Plot Summary: Holmes and Watson get stranded in Kay Ballard's basement in the 21****st**** Century. It is up to Kay and her 4 best friends to help Holmes and Watson survive in the modern world until they can return to their own. To help them learn, Kay plans out a series of lessons and hires her friends as teachers. Hilarity ensues…. **

**((Yes… I know that it was still a terrible summary. –Hides in the corner of shame- T_T) **

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HOLMES, WATSON, ARTHUR KIRKLAND, OR ALFRED JONES EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE WOULD BE COMPLETE IF I DID! **

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my awesome grammar-nazi, AkiraWolfWriter888! ;D She's saved my ass (in a grammatical sense) about 3 million times, and she deserves a present! I'll bake you some legit cookies later, dude! …Unless you want goulash or Hungarian Pancakes… Your choice! ;D **

-Kay's POV-

"Alright, guys! Get in my, like, super-awesome car," Tarin grinned, gesturing emphatically towards her rainbow-striped Jeep Sahara.

Watson inched up to the car slowly and touched the passenger door gingerly, as if it were going to snap at him. "Are you sure it's safe?"

My friend scoffed. "Safe? I once survived a tornado in that thing! And I, like, _hate _tornadoes!"

Watson still looked worried, but he smiled slightly. "Well, if you say so."

"Toss me the keys," I commanded, extending my hand.

As Tarin threw me her set of keys, I watched Holmes silently begin to examine the Jeep. If there was one thing I admired about him, it was his complete and utter concentration when he was deducing things. I could see his calculating brown eyes absorbing every particle of detail on the small automobile, scanning over every visible surface, and admiring the craftsmanship of the car. I suddenly realized that I was jealous…of a rainbow _car. _

I poked Tarin on the shoulder and muttered quietly, biting back laughter, "I wish I were that car…"

Tarin snickered. "Of course you do, you pervert!"

Holmes's quiet voice snapped both Tarin and I out of our perverted conversation. "May I look under the car's hood?"

Tarin and I couldn't contain our laughter anymore. We both snorted loudly and began laughing hysterically on the driveway.

Holmes gazed indignantly at me. "My apologies, did I say something? I merely wanted to examine the parts that make up—" He was interrupted by a fresh fit of laughter from Tarin and I, who were now rolling around on the cement in mirth.

"Now, really!" Holmes protested, annoyance clouding his eyes. "I don't see what's so funny about what I'm saying!"

I tried not to choke before I replied. "Well, we do!"

I could tell that Holmes was irked at my smart-ass comment, so I stifled my laughter as best as I could and stood up. "I'm, um, sorry, Holmes. I-it was nothing! Let's go to the mall!"

Tarin pulled herself up, grinned evilly at me, and walked off to where Watson was standing silently watching the three of us, leaving Holmes and I alone.

_Alone… _

Holmes was staring at me strangely. His eyes, now the color of damp soil, were glazed with something different than annoyance. I couldn't quite place the emotion…

I tried to meet his gaze flawlessly. "Something wrong, Holmes?"

I watched as his eyes lost the haziness and became alert and focused. "I-I'm sorry, I was lost in thought a moment. We should probably go to this mall now."

_Who knew? Sherlock Holmes zones out. _

He slowly held out an arm for me to take. "Shall we walk?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at being a gentleman. "The car is 15 feet away, Holmes. I can walk by myself."

He hastily withdrew his arm, embarrassed. "O-oh…I'm sorry."

I sighed and grabbed his arm. "I didn't say that I _wanted _to walk by myself."

He looked at me in surprise and then smiled warmly. "Very well, then. Shall we walk the 15 feet to the automobile together?"

I grinned and mock-curtsied. "I'd be honored, Mr. Holmes. And it's a _car_, not an automobile."

He nodded slightly, and I could tell that he was making a mental note of it. We linked arms and began strolling to the vehicle.

I could tell that he was pretty muscular, as I could feel his muscles through his thick tailored suit jacket. His arm radiated a faint, warm body heat, and he held my arm neither too tightly nor too loosely.

_This is pretty EPIC! I don't want to fangirl out or anything, but I bet all the other Sherlock Holmes fangirls are all jealous! Wait…do I…like him? _

We walked to the car in a leisurely fashion, neither of us speaking. As we got to where Tarin and Watson were standing and talking, Tarin shot me a look that clearly said, "DUDE! I knew that I should've left you alone! See what I did there? You're in love with him and it's all because of _me_! You owe me _big time_!"

He let go of my arm gently and smiled at me before opening the passenger door and motioning for me to go in. "After you!"

Tarin tapped him on the shoulder. "You're not in England anymore, Holmes. The driver's seat is, like, on the left side of the car."

Holmes raised his eyebrow, a very slight blush forming on his cheekbones. "I knew that."

I laughed and walked around to the driver's seat before climbing in and pushing my keys in the ignition. Though the Jeep is Tarin's car, whenever we go somewhere together, I drive. I get nervous when Tarin drives.

Tarin opened the door for Watson and Holmes, who clambered awkwardly into the car, then jumped in the passenger seat.

I turned the key and the car started with a satisfying purr. I put the car into reverse and exited the driveway, then put it in forward and began the drive into the city.

Watson cleared his throat. "So women are allowed to drive in this century?"

I scoffed. "Oh, yeah, man. We've been driving since the 1920's!"

I stole a quick look in my rearview mirror to see what Holmes was doing. From what I could see, he had the window down and was sticking his head out like a Golden Retriever.

"Holmes," I warned with a slight laugh, "don't fall out of the window because I'm not turning around!"

He pulled his head back into the car, his cheeks now rosy from the cold wind and his eyes wild. "This is simply marvelous! Does everyone here own a car?"

I nodded and then turned on the interstate. "Most people do. It's kind of a necessity nowadays."

"What is the average price for a car?" Watson inquired.

Tarin answered for me. "About $30,000 for a new car. I'm no good at math, but that'd be, like, somewhere between 25,000 and 28,000 British Pounds."

Watson gasped audibly. "Dear God! $30,000?"

I laughed shortly. "Yep. Inflation is pretty bad in this day and age."

"Who runs your country now?" Holmes asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Prepare to have your mind blown," I warned, grinning. "Our President is an African American named Barack Obama."

Holmes and Watson both let out collective gasps. "An African? In politics?"

Tarin coughed lightly. "Correction: An African-_American_. And there are, like, a hell of a lot of African-Americans in politics. It's totally new to have an African-American President, though."

"Fascinating," Holmes exclaimed. "So has your country's government stayed the same?"

"The exact same." I answered. "We haven't changed anything. Well, there are a couple amendments to the Constitution, but all of those deal with income tax, the sale of alcohol, women's rights, elections, discrimination in the workplace, and things in Congress."

"You seem to know a lot about it," Watson pointed out.

I smiled warmly. "I'm a teacher. I'd know."

We talked about the Constitution and other government-related things until we reached North Michigan Avenue, also known as the Magnificent Mile.

I parallel parked by "Ralph Lauren".

"So," I said, turning towards them, "the first thing to do is get you guys some new clothes. Tarin and I happen to be excellent stylists, but we want some input. What styles do you guys want? In other words, how do you want to look?"

Tarin began counting styles off her fingers. "There's casual, business, sporty, preppy, skater, fisher, tourist, and cowboy, just to name a few!"

Watson and Holmes looked at each other and shrugged.

Holmes cleared his throat. "I just want to look like a normal American, I reckon."

Watson nodded. "I agree with Holmes."

"Which brings me to another subject," I said in a businesslike tone. "You two need pseudonyms. What will your fake names be? We have suggestions if you can't think of anything. You also need life stories and careers. Holmes you can be a detective and Watson, you can be a doctor, you just need facts to back it up."

Holmes looked lost in though for a moment. "What do you think my name should be?"

Tarin pulled out a folder with a devious expression. "We have a bunch right here."

"Can you read them aloud?" Watson inquired.

"Sure," she agreed. "If you like the name just say which one you want. I'll do first names first. We have Arthur, Alfred, Roderich, Francis, James, Mark, Robert, Charles, Fred, Collin, Theodore, and Tyrone. Which of those do you like?"

Holmes wrinkled his nose. "What kind of name is Tyrone?"

Watson thought a moment. "I'll take Arthur if you don't mind."

Tarin pulled a pen out of her bag and hastily scribbled Watson's name next to Arthur.

I prodded Holmes on the shoulder. "Which do you want?"

"What do I look like?" he asked, grinning wryly. "I can't decide!"

"How much do I have to pay you if we name you Tyrone?" I giggled.

"I am _not _going to be called Tyrone!" Holmes said with emphasis. "Any other name!"

I thought a moment. He really looked like a Sherlock: not a Francis or a Roderich or a Charles. However, he looked a bit like a Fred if you looked closely…

"Is Fred okay then?" I asked, smiling at him.

"You look like a Fred, Holmes," Watson laughed heartily.

Holmes shrugged. "Fred it is, then!"

"Last name time," Tarin clapped. She began to read the surnames off the list. "I, like, chose a bunch of British ones for you guys. We have Kirkland, Tewkesbury, Griffiths, Johnson, Campbell, Davies, Middleton, Jones, and Thompson. Pick!"

Watson raised his hand slightly. "I'll take Kirkland."

Holmes nodded. "Then I'll take Jones."

"Hello, then, Arthur Kirkland and Fred Jones!" I grinned, my inner-fangirl screaming.

We promised to talk about back-stories later, then clambered out of the car and into the snowy streets of Chicago.

The first store that we went in was Ralph Lauren, a British men's and women's clothing store. Tarin and I immediately went to the polo section.

"I've got Holmes…you get Watson!" I whispered to Tarin, who was looking at a purple polo. She nodded and whisked Watson off to try on trousers.

Holmes stood next to me looking completely out of place.

I threw him a navy-blue polo shirt. "Hold that! You're going to get a firsthand experience in shopping with a 21st-century woman!"

"Should I be afraid?" he asked, smiling boyishly.

"Yes, be _very _afraid," I teased. I got him two rugby shirts, one red and one blue, and about ten more polos of different colors and made him carry them all.

"Which style is it that I'm going to be following?" he asked over the pile of shirts he was carrying.

"Preppy," I admitted sheepishly. "You said you wanted to look like a normal American, but I kind of wanted you to look all preppy. Preppy guys are super-awesome! Plus, in America, it's okay to look foreign!" I winked and threw another sweater vest at him.

As we walked over to the jeans section, I saw Tarin dragging poor Watson to the underwear section.

_Aw, I think she likes him! _

"Holmes," I began, "this is an important lesson, right here. In America, _everyone needs a pair of jeans. _You might even hate wearing them, but every American has at least one pair. You're gonna need a lot of them."

Holmes nodded.

I picked out a couple pairs of black, dark gray, and dark blue jeans and then went to the formalwear section.

"Pick whatever you'd like," I commanded. "I know that you know what you're doing in this section."

Holmes grinned sheepishly. "Actually, Watson or Nanny always shopped for me. I can survive on one outfit a week, but Watson makes me change for hygienic purposes or some rubbish like that. You're doing a marvelous job, so you can pick my outfits for me. I trust you with my wardrobe."

I shrugged. "Okay, Holmes. I should call you Fred, but I don't think anyone cares in here."

I picked out a couple ties, five dress shirts, three waistcoats, a couple pairs of nice khakis, and one James Bond-style suit.

"Now this is the awkward section," I muttered to Holmes. "We have to get you underwear." I turned to him, grinning. "Do you wear boxers, or briefs? Or are you one of those free-bird people?"

Holmes blushed from his toes up. "D-do I have to answer this question?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, grinning at him evilly.

"Free-bird," he whispered so softly I that I could barely hear it.

"What was that?" I asked, smiling like an evil idiot.

"I do not wear underwear," he said loudly and clearly. He actually said it so loud that the woman looking at a tie next to us shot a disgusted look at Holmes and hurried out of the store.

We both took one look at the harried woman and burst out laughing.

Watson and Tarin, who had apparently heard us laughing from the other side of the store, came over to see what we were laughing about.

Watson, who was carrying about the same amount of clothing as Holmes, smiled lightly at both of us. "What ever made you two laugh like this?"

"_Fred _doesn't wear any underwear!" I choked out, clutching at my sides. "And he told that woman over there!"

"You're, like, totally a pervert aren't you, Holmes?" Tarin asked, chortling along with us.

"It was an accident," Holmes howled, tears streaming down his face.

After Holmes and I calmed down, the four of us headed to the checkout counter.

After ringing everything up, the grand total well exceeded $5,000. No one had ever said that Ralph Lauren was cheap.

"How in the world are you going to pay for all this?" Watson asked bemusedly as he watched the cashier ring everything up.

Tarin whipped out her wallet and made a huge show of taking out her credit card. "With this magical thing called… the credit card! I charge it to my credit card and I pay it off later! Isn't that just _magical_?"

Several dollars later, we left Ralph Lauren to go to Macy's for more casual clothes, winter coats, and pajamas.

As we walked down the Magnificent Mile, it began to snow gently. The crystalline shapes swirled serenely around our heads and got entangled in our hair as their fellows created a thin white blanket on the sidewalk beneath our feet. Holmes and Watson stared in wonder at the sky.

"I'm guessing that it doesn't snow a lot in London?" Tarin guessed, watching Holmes's and Watsons's expressions.

"Barely ever. Or at least not this much," Watson smiled.

We walked slowly, enjoying the wintery scene around us, until we saw Macy's looming in front of us. Right before we could enter Macy's, a hurtling figure slammed into me and knocked me down onto the thin layer of snow.

I swore loudly as I hit the concrete. "Damn it!"

The figure, who had toppled over on impact, tried to pull themselves up. "Oh, I'm sorry! I was just rushing to get out of the cold!"

Holmes helped me up and I walked over to the person on the ground to help them up. "It's no problem."

I pulled the bundled up figure into a standing position and got a good look at them. A familiar face greeted me. "Melody, is that you?"

Her light blue eyes narrowed as they tried to determine who was in front of her. "Kaydence?"

"Yeah! Hey, Melody! How's it going?" I laughed as I realized that it was one of my best friends.

"Good. I didn't expect to see you here." She looked over my shoulder at Tarin, Holmes, and Watson. "Hey, Tarin! Wait, who are those two? Are they your _boyfriends_?"

Tarin and I simultaneously cried, "No!"

Melody held up her hands. "Chill, guys! I was just asking! Who are they then?"

Holmes came forward and shook her hand. "My name is Fred Jones and this is my friend, Arthur Kirkland."

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "Like the Hetalia characters? Weird…um, nice to meet you."

Both Holmes and Watson bowed their heads in acknowledgement.

Tarin stepped forwards and hugged her. "HI, MEL!"

Melody briefly returned the hug, then shook off the clingy brunette. "Hi. Again, who are they and why are they with you?" She adjusted her Paul Frank monkey hat so that her medium-length dark blonde hair was out of her eyes and pushed her thin glasses farther up on the bridge of her nose. Her black coat stood out in stark contrast with her nearly snow-white skin, and even though it was a children's coat, it hung loosely on her uber-thin frame. Her posture was as perfect as ever, even after being knocked over onto the hard, icy concrete.

Holmes rolled his eyes. "You're all so similar."

Melody stared at him. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Let's go inside, Mel. We have a lot of explaining to do."

_Here we go again… _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

_**I SHOULD REALLY STOP WRITING FREAKISHLY LONG AUTHOR'S NOTES! **_**Hi everyone! I know this is late, so pretty, pretty please with a cherry and sprinkles on top forgive me! TT_TT I'm a terrible procrastinator and this whole week I've been working double shift at the Farmers' Market that I work at! Good pay, lots of work! ^^' PLEASE FORGIVE ME! ****(grovels) I'll give you cookies AND a unicorn! If you don't like unicorns, then TOO BAD! ;D Now, with information pertaining to the story: I just have a couple notes. I know that the whole switching-POVs thing can be a bit confusing, so I've created a system! Each chapter will rotate between Holmes and Kay's POVs! So Chapter 6 was in Kay's POV, so this chapter will be in Holmes's POV. It should be less random and easier to follow now (hopefully)! This chapter might not be that good… I got four and a half hours of sleep last night and then did a Farmers' Market and lifted stuff and dealt with people all day… ^^' SO, here I am, exhausted and having a creative slump, and attempting to write… (Sigh) Oh, well, I still hope you enjoy it! I really hope that I haven't made Holmes too OOC… I attempted a crappy drama scene! (LE GASP!) It gets a little descriptive, but I hope you like it! It's just an opportunity for fluff! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! The longer the better! I appreciate them so, so much and I really enjoy hearing suggestions and comments from you all! I'd be SO happy if you R&Red! So, kudos to those of you who review every time! I love you guys SO MUCH! :3 I love all of you who just read too! Don't worry! ;DDD THANKS GUYS! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything… I think everyone knows that by know!**

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my buddy (who will guest star in this chapter) Pheonixette101! I REMEMBER YOUR USERNAME NOW! 8D She's been an awesome follower and friend throughout this all! Thanks Pheonixette! You've been epic! ;D **

-Holmes's POV-

The five of us turned towards the department store and hurried for the entrance. As we approached the door, I went to hold open the door for Watson and the ladies, but to my surprise, the doors flew open, as if possessed by a demon. Completely and utterly shocked, I tripped over my own two feet and went tumbling inside the pleasantly warm store.

Kay laughed mockingly as she and the others ran to help me. "Walk much, dumbass?"

I swore silently and shot a heated glance at her. "What in hell was that for?"

Her mocking grin melted off her face like ice on sun-baked black pavement. She frowned slightly at me. "It's 21st -century sarcasm, Fred…just a joke. Don't take it seriously!"

Though still irked, I sighed heavily and pushed myself up. _Why is it so hard to get mad at her? _"Very well. So, what is that seemingly-magical door thing?"

Tarin looked heavenwards and folded her hands as if in prayer. "Bless him, Lord. He doesn't know what an automatic door is."

Kaydence, who had regained her happy composure very quickly, smiled slightly at me. "That's an automatic door. There are sensors on both sides of the door and when they sense people, they send a signal through electrical wires connected to each of them that makes the door open. Well, it's something like that." She grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry. I might be from the 21st century, but I've never really been any good with technology aside from computers and phones."

Watson jumped into our conversation. "We just need the gist of it. There's no need to go into that much detail!"

I frowned in annoyance. "_Arthur, _I want to know the details!" I turned towards Kay. "I want to know everything you can tell me about this marvelous contraption! Do you know who invented it? Oh, and the year would be wonderful also."

The blonde woman looked blank for a moment until Tarin tapped her on the shoulder. The brunette scoffed at her. "Just use your iPhone, idiot. That's why Apple®, like, makes them!"

"Right!" Kay exclaimed, slamming her palm against her forehead. "I'd forgotten all about my iPhone!"

I raised an eyebrow quizzically. _What the devil is an iPhone? It has the word "phone" in it so it must be similar to the telephone at Kay's house… But what does the "i" have to do with any of that?"_

Tarin punched her in the shoulder. "How in hell do you forget about your iPhone?" You're, like, totally a ditz!"

"Like I didn't know that," Kay grinned. She pulled a small, rectangular, black object and pressed a small, circular button near the bottom of the rectangle. The device lit up, illuminating the area around her hand slightly.

Watson and I couldn't help gasping out loud. I pointed cautiously at the thing. "What, in heaven's name, _is _that thing?"

Kaydence held up a hand to signal for me to wait, then checked the iPhone, or whatever it was, for some sort of information. She shrugged a little and tapped the screen. "Fred, I'll look up the automatic door and explain this to you when we get home. We're running out of time! I've got to eat something or I'll DIE!"

I nodded, but then my attention was drawn to something else…Kay and Tarin's friend, Melody.

The other woman was staring at all of us like she was watching the dramatic part of a play with her eyes bulging out of her head and her mouth agape. She had taken off her hat and had unzipped the coat so that the other four of us could see the thick, red sweater she was wearing underneath. The scarf around her neck had also been shed, and now I could see a thin, white face with a smattering of freckles on each cheekbone.

I grinned sheepishly at her. "Erm…hello, Melody. You're awfully quiet over there, aren't you?"

She didn't reply, instead looking directly at Kay and Tarin with a bewildered expression gracing her features.

Tarin pointed at Watson and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then abruptly closed it once she caught my eye and said, "Ah, yes…" She then jumped up and down feverishly and made a sort of choking noise, which was only stopped when her blonde friend slammed her on the head with a newspaper she had in her bag.

I didn't know what to make of Tarin's obvious attempt at sign language, so I nodded my head as if I understood and shot a confused glance at Watson. Watson, equally puzzled, just shrugged and looked back to Melody, who seemed to be struggling with herself.

"Who," Melody finally sputtered, "_are _you people?"

Watson bowed slightly and took her hand, kissing it lightly. "As we told you before, I am Arthur Kirkland and that is my friend Fred Jones. Pleasure to meet you!"

I scoffed slightly. _Always the bloody gentleman…_

Melody grabbed her hand back as if she had been bitten, even though there was a slight blush on her cheeks. "Sorry, dude. I'm taken."

My comrade raised an eyebrow quizzically. "I wasn't making any advances, if that's what you're hinting at. That is merely how we greet women where I am from."

Tarin smacked him lightly on the back of the head, a playfully furious look on her tanned face. "You didn't greet _me_ that way!"

Watson flushed and grinned embarrassedly. He muttered lightly, "Well, it's only proper if we're in public to greet a woman that way! I wasn't sure if you'd want me to!"

Tarin just sighed and hit him over the head again. "You're, like, totally an idiot! But I like you!"

Melody spoke before Watson could retort. "But really, who are you people?"

I thought a moment, coming up with a random story in my head, before replying. "My friend and I are from England, but we've recently crossed over for work. He is working as a doctor and I as a detective in Chicago. We are staying with your friend Kaydence for as long as necessary before we can buy a house of our own."

Melody narrowed her eyes. "But how do you know Kay? If she'd known any British people, she'd have told me! She loves the British! Especially British _men_!"

I laughed inwardly at this new information and smiled mischievously at Kaydence, who blushed beet-red and held up her middle finger. Though I was shocked that a woman would ever consider using such an insult, it didn't surprise me as much as I thought it would. In fact, I laughed lightly at her. _Damn cheeky woman! _

Kaydence, now slightly flushed and madly embarrassed, cleared her throat. "Well, erm, I met them over the summer when I went to London. I gave them my phone number but they never gave me theirs, so we stayed out of touch for a while! I guess it just slipped my mind!"

Tarin snickered slightly, muttering, "Right, like that would happen!"

Melody looked at us strangely. "That doesn't explain why you two seem to be technologically inept…"

Watson raised his hand, grimacing. "Well, our village is quite small. We don't have automatic doors or iPhones. Actually, we only have a community phone."

Melody looked thoughtful for a moment. I took this chance to deduce her—I might as well stay in practice! Now that her jacket was off, I could see that her thinness was not unhealthy, just natural slenderness that comes from excessive physical activity. _Thin, lithe, and perfect posture. She must be a dancer of some sort. _My eyes were drawn to her medium sized, brightly patterned shoulder bag. There were various articles of clothing and shoes sticking out every which way._ She did ballet for a period of time judging from the ballet shoes she has in her bag, but next to those tap shoes, they seem quite unused. She must be taking a break from that particular style. She does other miscellaneous styles I do not know. _I examined her face briefly: _cornflower-blue eyes, very thin, wireframe glasses, and shoulder-length dark blonde hair. _Her skin was very, very pale, much to my surprise, but when I looked closer at her bag, I noticed a bottle marked "30ºF Sunscreen". _I'm guessing that this sunscreen protects the skin from the sun, so that must explain her unnatural paleness. Her vision is not as bad at Tarin's, but it is still quite terrible judging from the slight magnification of her eyes. _There were very dark circles under her eyes hinting that she did not get enough sleep due to her on-the-go lifestyle. My eyes flitted over her thick coat and the rest of her clothes. She was wearing her sweater, thick woolen socks, and light jeans. _She despises the cold, but she has learned to live with it. She dresses very casually, and for comfort, most of the time, but from the slight imprints on the area by her shoulder and the various clothes that she carries around with her, I can tell that she is used to wearing different sorts of costumes and other quite fancy outfits. She's been rehearsing for a big show today. _There were small brown drops on her hand. _Chocolate. She has a sweet tooth, but she normally saves it for special events, as there is no evidence of chocolate or other sweets on her person. _She jittered hyperactively and kept stealing glances out the window and tapping her foot slightly. _Short attention span. Has trouble concentrating on one thing for too long. _Her sweater had a large gold "M" on it, and it seemed to have special significance to her as it was worn and frayed slightly. The part of the tag at the bottom of the garment that I could read said, "Made in China. Authorized by the Harry Potter Fan Club". _Apparently, she's a huge fan of this Harry Potter person. _There was a small silver necklace around her throat with the initials "A.R." on it. _In a very happy relationship with this A.R. person. Judging from the quality of the silver, they've been courting for at least a year. _

I was jolted out of my deducing-stupor when Melody spoke. "I guess that makes sense, but what are all the bags for? And why does he look like Robert Downey Jr.? He has a weird outfit on! OMJ, is this a conspiracy theory? Is Fred from an alternate universe?" At this point, she had a strange glint in her eyes and was staring at me like I was some sort of circus clown.

Kay groaned. "No! Not another one of your conspiracy theories! _Stargate SG-1_ is starting to get to you, Mel! First Paul McCartney is an alien and now Fred is Robert Downey Jr. from an alternate universe!"

Melody waved her finger ominously. "It could happen you know!"

Watson coughed lightly. "Are we going to shop, or what?"

Kaydence blanched and reached in her pocket for her iPhone, apparently checking the time. "Oh, shit! It's way past lunchtime! I AM STARVING!"

Tarin sighed. "Mel, do you want to do lunch with us after we, like, shop around?"

Melody shrugged. "I was thinking about meeting Aaron at his place, but I kind of want to get to know your British friends more!"

Kay nodded and grabbed my arm. "Let's go to the pajama section, Fred! Move it, move it, MOVE IT!"

Tarin, apparently feeling left out, grabbed Watson's arm and began dragging him also. Melody hurried after us.

We approached another quite ingenious innovation that Kaydence explained to me was called the escalator: a set of stairs that moved upwards so that the people didn't have to tire themselves by walking.

The three women climbed on easily, and Watson eventually clambered on awkwardly, but I was getting slightly nervous. I was unaccustomed to the device, so I was much more awkward then I normally would have been. After three unsuccessful tries of stepping on the rapidly moving steps, I attempted to leap onto the black demon-device. That's when things went horribly wrong. As I landed on the second moving step, my right foot slipped out from under me and I toppled over face first onto the crazy invention, landing heavily on my face.

The first thing I was aware of as my face slammed into the stair was the extreme burning pain in my nose. _Oh, damn…I've broken my nose. _I swore loudly, clutching at my now heavily bleeding nose and rolled over into a sitting position on the still swiftly climbing escalator. The next few minutes were a blur; I vaguely remembered a symphony of screams from men and women watching me from above, Watson's deep voice bellowing my name, and Kay, Tarin, and Melody's feminine screams as I became disoriented and dizzy. My mind rebelled against being detained for a reason so stupid as falling on an escalator and breaking my nose, but my body couldn't take it for some reason. I feebly tried to stand up, but my legs turned to petroleum jelly and I fell once more, this time landing on the back of my head.

It was now just an effort to stay awake. There was a splitting pain erupting in the back of my skull and my vision was going blurry. The loss of blood was evident now; even with my head spinning and my vision going, I could see the damp puddle of crimson blood on my favorite white dress shirt from 221B Baker Street growing larger and larger with each passing moment. It gently cascaded down my face, into my mouth, onto the floor… I could taste the irony liquid, but I couldn't bring myself to swallow it and rid it from my mouth. Weak from blood loss, I was only vaguely aware of a pair of strong, familiar arms picking me up and carrying me up the seemingly never-ending escalator before I passed out.

I awoke suddenly to a dull, throbbing pain in my nose. My arm automatically flew up to feel it for damage, but it was snatched in midair by a familiar blonde-woman's arm.

Kay smiled worriedly at me. "Don't touch that! You'll only make it worse!"

I tried to give her a charming smile, but it must have come out more like a grimace of pain. "Who knew that escalators could be so dangerous?" I looked around to see a chalk-white Watson, a frightened-looking Melody, shocked Tarin, and a petrified Kaydence surrounding me in foldable chairs. I was lying on a wooden bench on the second floor of the Macy's department store with a large bandage on my nose.

"Dude, what happened?" Tarin asked quietly, for once not hyper or excited.

I shrugged, but automatically regretted it when my nose gave a particularly nasty throb. "I was just unaccustomed to the automatic stairs. I slipped and fell and then acted like a child and fainted."

"You had every right to faint, Holmes," Watson whispered, looking at the floor. "That was a lot of blood."

I scoffed lightly. "I don't know why such a small injury would bother me. I've boxed and come home in much worse circumstances than that!" I examined their grave expressions. "Don't act as if this were my funeral! It wasn't that serious! It was just an unfortunate accident!" I frowned at the four of them.

Melody surveyed me with scared eyes. "We thought that you were really hurt, Fred!"

I closed my eyes. "I assure you, Melody, that I am fine. It was nothing but a mishap."

Everyone seemed to relax somewhat at that except for Kaydence, who continued looking at me with a petrified expression.

Watson sensed that something was wrong with Kay so he asked Melody and Tarin to accompany him to get something to eat. They took one look at Kaydence and agreed, leading Watson to a food court a short ways away.

I watched them go, and then turned slightly to get a better look at Kay. Her eyes were glassed over with something akin to fear and her knuckles were white. Her normally rosy face was whiter than the snow gently falling outside.

"Kay," I asked slowly, "is something wrong?"

She looked at me strangely before answering in a small, frightened voice. "Holmes, you scared the shit out of me!"

Before I could retort, she pulled me into a bone-breaking hug, crushing me to her and holding on so tightly that I could barely breathe. She buried her face in my shoulder, but her voice was strong and laced with fire when she cried, "DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!"

I didn't know exactly how to reply to that. For one thing, I was still utterly shocked that she was hugging me like I was some sort of stuffed animal with no regards to how I felt. I was very much enjoying the _hug _itself, but the pain in my nose was almost overwhelming. I also didn't know how to deal with emotional women. "K-kay!" I stuttered through the growing pain in my nose. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"You _SCARED _me, you bastard! And I am _not _crying!" she exclaimed, shaking me back and forth by my shirt collar. My nose was starting to bleed again.

"Kay, my nose," I warned, trying to decide which was worse: being hug-strangled by Kay or having another nosebleed. _Definitely the nosebleed…_

She glared at me, her blue eyes sparkling with tears of fear and rage. "D-don't ever do it again! Holmes, I don't know what I'd do if—" She abruptly cut herself off and looked frustrated for a moment. "Never mind, Holmes! But…" Her expression became gentler. "You scared me shitless out there. I thought we'd lost you…"

I couldn't help laughing. "It was just a nosebleed!"

"And a concussion!" she protested, frowning at me. "Watson said that there might've been some complications had you lost any more blood!"

"Watson's a doctor," I explained sardonically, "He thinks that everything involves complications!"

"Shut up," she muttered, hitting me on the shoulder hard. I winced in pain; this was not a good day on the pain scale.

I knew that for some reason her feelings were hurt, so I tried to make things less awkward between us. "Kay," I started softly. She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. I sighed. "If you don't strangle me this time, you can have another hug."

She pondered this for a moment before nodding and smiling slightly. "Fine, but only if you promise not to do that ever, _ever _again!"

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Very well…and just when I had discovered how much fun escalators were!"

She laughed and hugged me more gently this time. I still wasn't sure how to deal with hugging; I really don't hug people. Eventually, I eased into it and it wasn't awkward anymore. In a way, we were comforting each other wordlessly.

When I saw Watson, Tarin, and Melody approaching us with some sort of drink, I broke out of the hug and smiled at her. "Watson would never let me live it down if he saw us hugging."

Kay agreed, giggling. "Neither would Tarin or Mel…"

The other three approached us, talking animatedly. Tarin bounded up to me with one of the drinks in her hand. "Here, Fred! I got you a smoothie!"

I wordlessly took it and looked into the cup. The contents were frozen and there was some sort of hollow tube in the center that was apparently used for drinking it. I looked at Watson to confirm it was safe to consume.

Watson nodded, sipping absentmindedly from his cup. "These things are bloody amazing, Jones!"

I shrugged and took a cautious taste: It was _fantastic. _"Dear God!" I shouted. "This _is_ absolutely amazing! What's it called?"

Melody eyed me apprehensively. "…A smoothie. Yours is a Strawberry-Lime one."

I nodded and immersed myself in the wonderful concoction. I drank it so fast, however, that my brain began to hurt. "ARGH!" I cried, holding a hand up to my aching head. "Why is my head on fire?"

Tarin grinned infuriatingly. "Aww…it's your first brain freeze! Just, like, leave it alone and it should go away."

The pain gradually died down, and we were sitting and chatting when suddenly loud, crazy music blared throughout the store. Tarin, Kay, and Melody rushed to the railing to look at something, so Watson and I followed suit.

A copper-haired woman in a brightly colored outfit was dancing to the music. The music was very fast paced and was the most different sounding music I'd ever heard in my life. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman singing, however. He or she had a sort of high voice, and their style was certainly not classical, but I must admit that it was strangely catchy. The person was singing, "Thriller! Thriller night!" and some other words I couldn't understand, but my focus was not on the music, but the woman below. Five others had joined her group and were doing some crazed dance routine with the brunette being carried by the two men in the group around the store. One man had a rectangular thing on his shoulder. They did all sorts of elaborate tricks and moves and once, one of the men even flipped.

Kay motioned to the scene below. "This…is called a flash mob."

"Interesting," I commented. "Who is singing this?"

"MJ!" Kay yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "The King of Pop! He was epic! This is one of his most famous songs ever!"

"So he's a man?"

Kay looked at me with a teasing smirk on her face. "Of course he's a man! If you think that his voice is high, wait until you hear some of the other idiots in the music business. Music today is crap." The frown that now graced her lips was a mixture of sadness and anger.

"I'm sure it's not that bad!" I comforted, slightly confused.

"Oh, it is…" She hissed, her eyes going dark.

Melody noticed her friend's surliness, so she poked me on the shoulder. "Don't even get her started, Fred! She'll just rant on and on that the music business right now is crap and that we should all start listening to classic rock from the '60s, '70s, and '80s. She's very biased when it comes to music."

"BUT I HATE IT!" Kay whined. "Those jerks are ruining everything!" She trailed off on a tirade of anger and I couldn't do anything but watch in amusement. She ranted loudly for the good part of five minutes until both Tarin and Melody screamed, "KAYDENCE, SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The blonde haired woman automatically shut up and went back to the railing.

We watched the rest of the show, captivated, until the mob stopped and yelled, "ANIME! GET IT!" They then formed a great human pyramid with the brunette on top. We, along with everyone else in the store, clapped maniacally as they all climbed on the escalator and started wringing hands with everyone and handing out flyers.

The brunette turned towards us waved amiably at the three girls. They all cheered, "ALLI!" and ran towards the other woman. Watson and I, shocked, bolted after them.

Alli surveyed Watson and I as we approached. "So, who are you?"

I introduced myself, bowing slightly, "Fred Jones, Miss. And this is my friend Arthur Kirkland."

Alli looked at the both of us as if we were crazy then started giggling slightly. The giggling turned to chuckling, which turned to chortling, which turned to laughter, which turned to extreme laughter, which turned to a fit of hysterics. The woman was literally rolling on the floor, laughing her head off as Watson and I stared at her.

Melody, Kay, and Tarin seemed to be having trouble withholding their laughter also.

Watson frowned heavily. "I say, what's so funny?"

Alli just continued laughing. One of the men, an African-American holding the rectangular object that had played the unnaturally loud music, came up to me and shook my hand. He smiled at me. "Man, you're a brave guy. BRAVE! It takes some serious shit for guts to change your name to that!"

The other man, a white man with wavy brown hair, glasses, and blue eyes went towards Watson and wrung Watson's hand. He looked on the verge of tears. "Hey, that's so awesome of you to change your name and everything! I'm a big fan…A BIG FAN!"

"Um, who are you?" I inquired, feeling slightly odd.

The African-American grinned and pointed to himself. "I'm Tyrone Williams."

_Oh my God…Tyrone? I thought that it was just a joke! Is this name going to haunt me forever, now?_

The white man smiled at us. "My name's Craig Peterson!"

The three women who had danced with Alli came forwards and congratulated us on being brave also. There were two blondes named Lindsay (pronounced: LindSAY) and Karly, and one black haired woman named Michelle.

Watson and I, feeling strange and out of place, accepted their thanks and went to talk to Kay, Tarin, Melody, and Alli, who were deep in conversation with each other.

Alli, who had shoulder length reddish-brown hair and brown eyes, looked at Watson with a grin. She had on a very flashy neon green shirt with a Japanese character on it and black pants with neon characters that flashed different colors when she moved. Her shoes were also a neon pink color with purple laces. She was a rather strange sight to behold.

"Craig," Alli commanded, "come here!"

Craig scrambled up to his boss and bowed. "Yes, my lady?"

"Get me one mocha latte, extra cream, NO foam. Get Kay a mocha frappuccino with two squirts of chocolate and extra whipped cream. Tarin wants an herbal tea and Melody wants a carton of milk. Get the boys two coffees with some creams and sugars on the side. Got that?"

He smiled dreamily and bowed once more. "Yes, delight of my eyes!"

Alli sighed commandingly. "Then go, Craig! We don't have all day. Be back in five minutes or no cosplaying for you!"

Craig bowed low then sprinted off to find the nearest coffee shop.

I couldn't help but admire her guts. She was certainly a leader.

She pointed to Watson and I. "So, I heard you two are British and need some help fitting in. We're going to my place and I'm going to make you feel like _stars! _Watch and learn boys, watch and learn!" She paraded to the front of her entourage and yelled, "Hit it, Tyrone!"

Tyrone pressed a button and the party started dancing away to another crazy song.

Watson, the ladies, and I followed behind them. I tapped Kay on the shoulder. "Do you know what song that is?"

Kay nodded. "It's called 'Drunken Lullabies' by an Irish band called Flogging Molly."

I raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. So where are we going?"

"We're eating din-din at Alli's place!" Melody exclaimed, obviously excited. "I get to see her WHOLPHINS!"

Watson and I exchanged a look and kept going.

_Can this day possibly get stranger?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**PEOPLE: READ THIS OR YOU MIGHT NOT UNDERSTAND THE CHAPER! **

**Okay, first of all, thank you for choosing to read my fic! It really is appreciated! :D I'd like to apologize for my last chapter! I was preoccupied all that week and it didn't read as smoothly as it read off in my head! ^^' Here are some things you might want to know for both this and last chapter:**

**LAST CHAPTER**

**Anime****- Japanese cartoons. My friends and I are obsessed with them! **

**Why their names are funny****- Arthur Kirkland and Alfred (Fred) Jones are characters from an anime my friends and I are crazy about. (You may remember me mentioning it in my author's notes. It's called "Axis Powers: Hetalia") Arthur Kirkland is the personification of England and Alfred Jones is the personification of America. It's funny because Arthur is Alfred's older brother-figure and he constantly has to keep him out of trouble.**

**THIS CHAPTER**

**Wholphins and how they're related to Alli- ****My friend literally has a plan, involving the False Killer Whale-Bottlenose Dolphin hybrids called wholphins, for the end of the world. She plans on a giant flood, so when the world is submerged by water, her wholphin allies will protect her and make her their queen. Awesome, right? XDD **

**The ghetto-speak- ****I AM NOT BEING RACIST HERE! XP She literally switches to speaking that way when she speaks to Tyrone! It's just an inside joke between the two of them! NOT. RASCIST! **

**R&R PLEASE! PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP! I WANNA KNOW WHAT I CAN IMPROVE ON! THANKS TO ALL WHO HAVE READ THIS! YOU CAN SKIP OVER THE LONG DEDICATION IF YOU WANT!**

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to J.K. Rowling, my favorite author. Thank you, Mrs. Rowling, for giving me my childhood, giving me someplace to go when I had nowhere else, and giving me the makings of a fangirl and author. You've changed my life, and I can never, ever repay you for that. With the last movie coming out a couple days ago, I've recently been thinking about Harry Potter a lot. I've cried with the rest of the fangirls when Snape, Dumbledore, Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and Dobby died, I've laughed with the twins, and I've smiled at all the touching moments. In a way, my childhood has ended now that the movies and the books are done. I want to thank you, though, for everything you've done for me and for the other fangirls and fanguys all around the world. **

-Kay's POV-

As we followed Alli and her "entourage", I approached Melody. We hadn't seen each other in a couple weeks and I was eager to find out as much new information about her as I could.

"So…" I began awkwardly as I caught her eye.

She narrowed her eyes. "So, what?"

I searched desperately through my head for a topic. Then it hit me: _love life. _I grinned infuriatingly at her. "How are things with Aaron?"

She chuckled. "How'd I know you'd ask about him?"

I tried my best to look creepy. "I'm your best friend: I have a license to stalk you shamelessly."

She sighed. "Well, if you have to know, it's _awesome!_"

"Specifics," I demanded. Then I noticed a large stretch of ice on the sidewalk. I motioned for Mel to stop for a moment. "Wait…" I took a running start and leaped onto the frozen pavement and slid down clumsily, whooping gleefully like a child in pursuit of the ice cream truck during the summer. I love sliding on ice for no reason! After landing safely on the other side, I strolled towards Melody with a silly smile plastered on my face. "That was awesome!"

Melody eyed me sternly, but her mouth curled up in a slight grin. "About Aaron…well, I don't know…he's just all cute and nerdy! And he has the coolest hair ever! And I'm teaching him how to dance! The man has some serious moves! He can even bend…and snap! He can also cook really, really, really well! He made some fancy French dish the other night, and I was like, 'Aw, you're so cute! Your cooking is awesome!' He got some new computer the other day that he's been going on and n about. Guess what the screen saver is? A picture of ME! Oh, and he got glasses the other day! They make him look all nummy!" She gushed with a lovey-dovey expression on her face. She sighed contentedly.

"Nummy?" I inquired amusedly. "Done anything romantic lately?"

"Meh…" She shrugged. "He's been busy working at the Apple® Store! Though last night he took me to a really nice Italian restaurant! Oh, and he buys me flowers every other day!"

I put my hand over my heart. "If I didn't know how long you've been dating, I'd squeal! It is pretty adorable, though!"

She frowned. "We've only been dating for 3 years!"

"Oh, yes!" I rolled my eyes. "_Only _three years! I haven't had a boyfriend for more than 6 months. Then, I realized that they're too high maintenance!"

"No, you're just lazy," Melody commented, grinning. "And that doesn't seem to be the case with Fred over there!" She assumed a knowing expression. "You're love-struck, dude!"

I swore inwardly. _Is it that obvious? _I then tried changing the subject. "How's your show going?"

She pushed me. "Do _not _change the subject! It's because he looks like a British Robert Downey Jr., isn't it?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Would you murder me if I said sort of?" Before she could say anything about how she was always right in relationships, I said, "But that's definitely not all! I swear!"

She crossed her arms. "How long have you known him?"

_The whole of two days!_

"For about a month now!" I lied. "We met in London, and we just really hit it off!"

Mel, still suspicious, pressed on. "Then answer the eight questions!"

"What eight questions?" I asked, confused.

"The eight questions every girl must know about her boyfriend! What's his full name? Favorite color? What color eyes does he have? Can he cook? What kind of music does he like? Is he somewhat intelligent? How many siblings does he have? Can he fix a car?" Melody listed the strange questions off methodically, as if she was accustomed to asking these strange questions.

"We are _not _a couple," I shouted, causing everyone within twenty feet to stare at me…including Holmes.

He looked at me with confusion in his eyes. I responded by shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly and motioning towards Melody. He nodded, smiling at me slightly. When I returned the smile, he grinned mischievously at me and pointed to both Watson and Tarin, then made a heart symbol with his hands. I nodded vigorously, giggling, then pointed to Melody, who seemed to have lost interest in our conversation momentarily, and started pretending to jabber on and on silently. He laughed, flashed a wide smile, and went back to talking with Watson.

_That was close… _

"Can you answer any of the questions?" Melody pushed, grinning evilly at me. "And don't act as if I didn't notice any of the little sign language battle you had with your _boyfriend_! I saw that smile!"

I gritted my teeth and answered, guessing on some, answering confidently on others. "If you _must _know, his full name is Alfred Francis Jones. He thinks that having a favorite color is a waste of time, but he prefers green. He can't cook to save his life, he prefers classical music, namely pieces involving the violin, and he is _extremely _intelligent. He has one older brother, no sisters. And no, he cannot fix a car, but if someone taught him, he probably could learn how to quickly."

Melody took a moment to process the information and then broke out into spontaneous applause. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jones! You have officially passed the test and are on your way to being married!"

Tarin, who'd previously been in deep conversation with Alli, skipped over to where Mel and I were walking. She spoke before I could retort. "Are you talking about the lovebirds who _just won't admit it_?"

Melody nodded and I shook my head vigorously.

Tarin grinned mischievously, and then offered what she thought to be great advice. "Just, like, totally shove everything aside and make out with him!"

I might've hit her over the head with my extremely heavy satchel if we hadn't just exited the store. I looked around, noticing that it was still snowing heavily. Tyrone had shut off the loud music and was now walking next to Michelle and Lindsay. Craig, who had just caught up with us as we had left the store, was trailing Alli with a tray of coffee. Karly was behind everyone, texting someone on her Blackberry. Holmes and Watson were strolling side-by-side in silence.

Alli, with Craig still behind her, dropped back to talk with us. "I've noticed that the attention is not on me. Craig, why aren't they paying attention to me?"

Craig gulped. "Well, dearest, I think that there is some sort of relationship difficulties between Mr. Jones and Ms. Kay."

Alli patted him on the head. "Good Craig! You get to hold my hand for seven seconds when we get home! In five minutes, go start the car. It's behind the rainbow Jeep!" She smiled amiably at him, then turned her attention to me. "So, is this true?"

I, once again, tried to change the subject. "Craig, can I have my coffee?"

"Yes, Miss!" Craig smiled dreamily. He handed me my frappuccino then resumed staring at Alli. I busied myself sipping at the semi-frozen drink contently.

"Well?" Alli pressed, placing her hands on her hips. "Tell me or I'll get Tyrone over here! He's an expert on relationships!"

"I—well, I—hey, look! It's Marie! HEY, MARIE!" I somehow avoided yet another harrowing question by locating Alli's arch-nemesis by her car in front of a gas station that we were passing. The two enemies had been feuding since Kindergarten, and they still hadn't reconciled—in fact, their relationship had progressively gotten worse.

Marie, a light brown-haired, hazel-eyed, twenty-eight year old woman, looked up in confusion, squinting as she tried to locate the source of my shouts. I waved at her frantically, trying to get her attention. Before I could bellow her name again, Alli grabbed my hand in midair and slammed it down before I could register what was happening.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she snarled. If looks could kill, I'd be incinerated and on my way to Hell.

"I—" I was cut off when Marie began running over from her car with an expression of utter loathing on her face. She was very short, but damn, she could run fast! "Alli? What are you doing here? I thought this was my part of town!"

Alli stiffened, then called out, "TYRONE! CRAIG! EMERGENCY MANEUVER FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVEN! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"

As Tyrone, Craig, Michelle, Karly, and Lindsay ran around in disorganized circles screaming orders, Tarin buried her face in her hands and sighed before looking at me in exasperation. "You, my friend, are an idiot."

I grinned sheepishly, watching silently as Karly, Lindsay, and Michelle formed a tight circle around Marie before she could reach Alli. Craig had an extra coffee and was threatening to pour it over Marie's head if she didn't retreat. Tyrone had disappeared in the commotion.

Holmes and Watson hurried up to where Tarin, Mel, and I were standing. Holmes tapped me on the shoulder. "Who is the Marie woman?"

I sighed, cursing myself for my stupidity. "That's Alli's worst enemy. Full name: Marie Thornton. Occupation: hairdresser. They've been fighting since Kindergarten."

"Why?" Watson asked, surveying the chaotic scene with interest. Alli was barking orders at Craig and smack talking with Marie. Phrases too complicated and explicit to be repeated were launched between the opposing sides like mystery meat during a food fight. Neither was winning, but it sure was fun to watch.

Melody grimaced. "It all started when they were five. Alli had one of those little-kid crushes on a boy named Peter. He liked her too. The two of them went so far as to start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend and getting each other small presents. You know, like a plastic ring from a cereal box or a little note they drew with the other's name surrounded by hearts. Anyways, Marie, who also had a crush on Peter, went up and somehow convinced Peter to become her boyfriend. Alli was crushed. She never quite forgave Marie. And then there were all those other things that Marie stole from Alli: a bike, a couple dogs, three legitimate boyfriends, one car, twenty stuffed animals, four friends, and about three thousand dollars! Oh, and a cheese sandwich!"

Holmes and Watson simultaneously donned frowns. "Oh."

Tarin eyed me with a smirk. "And our genius best friend here just summoned the devil herself because she didn't want to answer a question!"

"Sounds like something Holmes would do," Watson muttered under his breath, smiling slightly.

"She was being pushy!" I protested, blushing slightly.

Before anyone could reply, there was a large screeching sound from behind us. We all spun around in surprise to see Tyrone in a large 16-wheeler rental truck pulling up behind Marie.

Alli smiled evilly at him. "Ah, you got the truck! Good job, Ty!"

Tyrone nodded and motioned towards Marie, who was still being held captive by the girls. "When should I run that bitch over? You just give the word, babe! I'll be waiting!"

Alli frowned at him. "I told you, Tyrone! No callin' me babe!"

"Get outta my grill, woman!" Tyrone retorted, waving his hand nonchalantly.

"No, Tyrone!" Alli yelled, obviously enraged. "I ain't in your grill! You up in mine! Get the fuck outta mine, BITCH!"

I stole a glance at Watson and Holmes, who were gaping wide-mouth at the ghetto-worthy exchange between Tyrone and Alli.

"She does that when she gets really angry," I explained, laughing both at Alli's language and at the looks on Holmes's and Watson's faces.

Tyrone and Alli argued for another couple minutes before Tarin hit both of them over the head with her lavender bag.

Alli, flushed and suffering from a severe adrenaline rush, turned back to Marie. "So, loser. Are you ready to get run over by my sixteen-wheeler?"

"You wouldn't do it, liar," Marie sneered.

Alli raised her eyebrows coolly. "Watch me, _bitch_." She snapped and Tyrone began backing the truck up slowly until he was literally five inches away from Marie.

That's when my holy-shit-my-best-friend-is-attempting-murder senses kicked in. "ALLI! YOU CAN'T JUST RANDOMLY KILL HER!"

Alli smiled dreamily. "I wouldn't _kill _her! I'd just break a couple bones here and there! Just some pain…well, a lot of pain!" She made a noise that sounded like, "TEE-HEE!" and began laughing maniacally.

"That's against the law, Alli," Tarin pointed out matter-of-factly. "No matter what you do to her you can be sued for attempted murder!"

Alli's smile dropped off her face. "Aww…the stupid cops ruin all the fun! No matter! I'm above murder anyways!" She walked away hastily, but held up her hand to motion for us to wait by Marie. She paraded to the gas station across the street singing an explicit song cheerfully. Alli approached Marie's car, observing it for a second, then rummaged around in her pocket for something. She finally pulled out the object about two minutes later: her set of keys. She waved happily at Marie, and then proceeded to scrape the keys up and down the side of the car. She scratched it, ignoring Marie's swears of protest, for the good part of ten minutes, then pocketed her keys and kicked the windshield as hard as she could. Apparently, the car was pretty cheap, because as soon as her foot collided with the glass, it shattered into a billion glittering pieces. After smiling dangerously at Marie one more time, she thrust her nose in the air and abruptly walked away from the scene, motioning for us to do the same. Her entourage immediately stopped what they were doing and scrambled after Alli.

Marie, shocked at her nemesis's quick departure, swore loudly, flipped Alli off, and bolted back to her car in a huff to inspect the damage.

"That's how we get revenge in the twenty-first century, boys," Tarin announced, making sure that Melody couldn't hear.

Watson looked quite surprised. "That's…different."

As we made our way back to Tarin's car, Holmes approached me, smiling warmly. "Hello, Kay!" He had taken off the padding on his nose, and his dark hair was wild around his stubble-covered face. His brown eyes twinkled merrily. He looked…pretty damn adorable. I studied his face with a slight smile on my own. _This is so damned complicated…am I really in love with him like everyone says?_

"'Sup, Holmes?" I grinned, laughing inwardly at the double meaning. "How's the nose?"

"Much better! It was just a bloody nosebleed, after all," he replied dismissively. He hesitated for a bit. "…What happened back there?"

I giggled slightly. "Well, if you had shown up in anyone else's basement, you might've had a normal stay in Chicago. My friends and I aren't exactly normal. We prefer being spazzes with strange habits and even stranger hobbies! You have just experienced a day in the life of four of the weirdest people in the Chicago area. It has involved death threats, accidents both of the dangerous and the clumsy types, ranting, laughing obnoxiously, smoothies, awkward moments, falling on an escalator, dancing out of a department store, buying rainbow colored socks, shopping for thousands of dollars worth of clothes, and setting a kitchen on fire. Understand now?"

Holmes laughed loudly. He has such a nice laugh. It somehow simultaneously reminded me of the deep ringing of church bells and the smooth vibe of a bass guitar. "Yes, Kay…I believe I do." We walked in silence until we got to the rainbow Jeep.

Tarin, Melody, and Watson clambered in the back while I got in the driver's seat and Holmes climbed into the passenger seat.

"Okay, everyone," I explained, fastening my seatbelt, "we're meeting Alli and her group at her house for dinner. Let's try and get there quick." I turned towards Holmes. "We should probably get you and Watson into some new clothes. You're covered in blood, and Watson looks like he came out of an old book…which he did. We'll change at Alli's house. We put the clothes in the back when you passed out."

Holmes nodded and closed his eyes, making him look even more adorable, if that were possible.

Before I could start the car, Melody tapped on my shoulder. "Why did you call Arthur 'Watson'?"

_God damn it…not all this again! _

Tarin sighed, taking matters into her own hands. "Well, you see, Mel…Arthur here is John Watson and Fred is Sherlock Holmes!" She caught my eye, shrugging. "She might as well know. She'd find out sooner or later!"

"Right," Melody laughed. "Now, really, why?"

I rested my face in my hands. _That wasn't how I'd have liked Melody to find out. _I looked over to ask Holmes to do his deduction routine, but was stopped when I noticed him sleeping peacefully.

"We shouldn't wake him up," I whispered, pointing at the slumbering form of Holmes. "But I'm sure we can prove it once he wakes up!"

Melody stared at me. "You can't be serious! You actually believe that Fred is Sherlock Holmes? And Arthur is Watson?"

"So Fred can be an alternate-universe Robert Downey Jr. but he can't be Sherlock Holmes?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.

"Touché," Melody hissed. "But how can you prove it?"

Watson pulled something out of his pocket. "I believe I can, Melody. Look at the manufacturer's date on this pocket watch." He handed her a small gold-coated pocket watch.

She examined the back. "November 1887." Her eyes widened in awe. "Wow! That's an old watch! I still don't believe you though!"

I groaned. "Well, how can we prove it to you?"

"I'll only believe it if Fred, A.K.A Holmes, deduces me," she concluded after thinking a bit.

"Fine," I agreed grudgingly. "But don't wake the poor guy up! He's had a rough day!" I started the car and began the roughly twenty-minute drive to Alli's. Her house was slightly north of mine, but farther into the city. It was getting to be four in the afternoon, so with pre-rush hour traffic, it was going to take slightly longer than the average twenty minute drive from Michigan Avenue.

We drove in silence. Tarin eventually fell asleep on the also dreaming Watson's shoulder, and Melody dozed off with her head against the window. I myself was exhausted, but I kept myself awake by putting my headphones in and blasting Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" at top volume.

After fighting through the traffic and navigating my way around Alli's neighborhood, I pulled into her long driveway. Due to her extensive work in advertising, acting, and voice acting, Alli had made enough money to allow her to live comfortably for the rest of her days. Her house was made in the classic Victorian style with elegant doors and windows and a whitewashed porch in the front. There were three floors, and each had four bedrooms and two baths. There was a ballroom on the first floor, a computer lab on the second, and a large anime room on the third. In the back of her large house were a number of small cottages in which her entourage slept. They all had their own legitimate houses, but when they were practicing for a publicity stunt, they preferred to stay close to Alli. Only she and her guests were allowed to stay in her house.

I shut off the engine and went to the back of the car to poke Watson, Tarin, and Melody awake.

Tarin, who woke up first, seemed to be madly pleased about falling asleep on Watson's shoulder. "Told you that he liked me! I'm irresistible!" She winked and jumped out of the car, then scampered off to find Alli.

Watson, still groggy from being woken up, offered a tired smile as he stretched. "Where did Tari go? Already gone to see Alli?" I nodded and held the door open for him and the yawning Melody.

Lastly, I went up to the passenger door and gently shook Holmes. "Holmes," I whispered. "You gotta get up! We're at Alli's!"

One bright brown eye fluttered open. "Do I have to? I was rather hoping that I could stay and examine the—" He didn't get to finish his sentence. I rolled my eyes, grabbed his collar, and proceeded to drag him down the driveway, up the stairs, and into Alli's warm front room. It was a medium sized, red-and-brown room. There were three large scarlet armchairs in the back clustered around a roaring stone fireplace and there was a large abstract picture over the miniature inferno. The polished, coffee-colored wooden floor was partially covered in a braided brown and white rug on which the armchairs rested. There was a simple dark-washed table in the back with two matching chairs and a bouquet of white roses on top. It simply oozed charm and comfort.

Tarin, waiting in one of the chairs, bounded up as the four of us entered. "Hey, guys! Where's Alli? I looked around a bit but I can't find her!"

"She's most likely in her office," Mel offered. "Let's go in there! I wanna see the wholphins, anyways!"

We all left the front room and entered Alli's large, well-lit office. The office wasn't as tasteful as the front room. There were humongous pictures of anime characters and movie stars taped hastily to the wall, the carpet was multi-colored and littered with pieces of paper, there was a large wooden desk and a swivel chair that looked like it had been stuffed with ten times the normal amount of foam, there was an old couch with a spring sticking out, an enormous collection of DVDs and volumes of manga were crammed into an overflowing bookcase towards the back. Next to the bookcase, was Alli's forty-foot tank of wholphins.

Holmes was immediately drawn to the strange animals in the back. "Kay, what are those?"

"A False Killer Whale-Bottlenose Dolphin hybrid," I explained happily. "Alli believes that once the icebergs melt and the world is underwater, the wholphins will make her their queen and take over. She's spent ten years raising the money to make the W.P.A.—also known as the Wholphin Protection Agency. She keeps her favorite six wholphins here in this tank! This is Akira, Lawliet, Chuck Norris, Lalouche (pronounced: La-loosh), Yuki, and Maka! They are her wholphin diplomats once the above world society is destroyed!"

Holmes looked a little frightened. "…Right…"

Suddenly, the lights flickered off and the whole room was plunged into complete darkness. I felt around blindly until my hands collided with someone's shirt. "Hello?"

Holmes's voice answered. "Is that you, Kay?"

"Yeah. Here, hold onto my hand. I can't see shit in here."

His warm, calloused hand somehow found mine and we began looking around for the others. It was like a game of Marco Polo gone wrong.

"Watson?" Holmes whispered. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here," Watson replied from behind us. "Why are you whispering?"

I laughed and I could tell that he was blushing even though it was pitch-black.

Out of nowhere, a huge beam of light appeared on the chair behind the desk, illuminating the face of the person who was sitting in it… Alli.

"Good evening," she cackled eerily, folding her hands, "and welcome to Alli Douglas's office! We have all that is prepared to make sure that Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson have a comfortable stay in America!"

I swore. "Damn it, Alli! Can you turn the lights on? And how the hell did you find out about them being Holmes and Watson?"

"I planted bugs in your car," she answered simply, a maniacal glint in her eye.

"That's creepy, even for you!" I heard Tarin exclaim. "But that was a great idea! How'd you do it?"

"TURN THE LIGHTS ON, ALLI!" Melody bellowed.

Alli began to pout. "Fine, ruin my fun!" She snapped and the lights came back on. Craig was in the room next to the light switch, Melody was on the floor, Watson was sitting on the couch next to Tarin, and I…I was still holding hands with Sherlock Holmes.

Alli leaped out of her chair and pointed an accusing finger at Holmes and I. "Ah-HA! I KNEW IT!"

Holmes and I exchanged a fearful look and hastily disentangled our fingers, simultaneously asking, "Knew what?"

Alli laughed. "I'll interrogate you two later! Right now we have business to attend to!" She clapped twice and Tyrone sauntered in with a chalkboard and a pointer. Alli took both of them from Tyrone and made a great show of setting everything up. When she was finally done, she slammed the pointer against the green board. "Okay, everyone. Lesson one begins now! Teacher number One is: me. Subject is: the Internet!"

_The Internet? They don't even know what a computer is! _

"Alli," I began slowly, "we might want to teach them what a computer is first!"

Alli slung the pointer over her shoulder and frowned at me. "I am the teacher here, _missy! _And I say that we learn the Internet first!"

_Oh, shit…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**READERS (THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT): **

**I have some things to explain and/or apologize about! (Deep breath) I apologize for chapter two, I apologize for the grammatical errors that I missed, I apologize for making Sherlock OOC, I apologize for long author's notes, I apologize for awkward dialogue, I apologize for updating late, I apologize for terrible writing, and I apologize for this long list of apologies. There…I feel better now! ^_^ In this chapter, I hope to redeem the story and myself! I feel like Holmes has been getting more and more OOC as the story has progressed, so I'm going to attempt to (no pun intended) "bring him back to reality". I feel the need to make him much more eccentric and bitingly sarcastic, because I feel that I've failed miserably at it… ^^' Though he does go through a bit of a computer-love moment…XDD**

**And I went to a Paul McCartney concert on August first…Mind=BLOWN. It was the coolest thing I have EVER seen. EVER! The man is 69 and he can still sing and dance and joke around like a 20-year old! It's fucking amazing! This side note is important because it reminds me what this chapter is going to be about. Sir Paul sang "Maybe I'm Amazed" about halfway into the show, and when he got into the refrain, it hit me. It was the PERFECT song to inspire me for my fanfic! LISTEN TO IT IF YOU HAVE A CHANCE! IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL! In this chapter, Holmes goes through a bit of an I-don't-know-what-the-hell-is-going-on-between-Kay-and-I moment. Not that he hasn't already been in this phase for most of the story… The line that hit me was, "Maybe I'm a lonely man who's in the middle of something that he doesn't really understand" Cool right? 8D AND IN CLOSING: THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD, SIR PAUL MCCARTNEY! KEEP ROCKING! **

**Quote of the day: Random person in the audience: I LOVE YOU, SIR PAUL!**

** Paul McCartney: I love you too, random citizen! ;D**

-Holmes's POV-

Tarin sighed loudly from her spot on the couch. "Alli, that makes no sense! We have to teach them what a computer is or they'll never, like, understand what the Internet is!"

"Fine," Alli pouted, crossing her arms like a child denied candy. "We'll teach them about computers first! You guys are all so pushy…Craig! Fetch the MacBook Pro!"

I watched silently as Craig bowed and ran out of the room to fetch this so-called MacBook Pro device. "What is a MacBook Pro?" I inquired, leaning against the wall.

Kay, now lounging on the couch next to Watson, smiled. "It's a type of computer…one of the coolest ones, too!"

"Well, what's a computer?" Watson sighed, rubbing his temples wearily.

Melody, Kay, Alli, and Tarin exchanged how-the-hell-do-we-explain-something-like-this looks.

Melody raised her hand and glanced at Watson and I. "I still don't believe that Fred is Holmes and Arthur is Watson! I feel sort of awkward thinking of them as fictional characters…it's weird! I seriously need proof! Deduce me or something!"

"I will deduce you later," I offered, annoyed at having to prove my existence to nearly every person I met. "Must I also deduce Alli to prove that I'm not a deranged psychopath running around in an outfit from the 19th Century claiming that I am Sherlock Holmes, or will deducing you be quite enough?"

An awkward silence encroached on our conversation. I got the feeling that what I had said had offended somebody, which wasn't unusual. However, Kaydence seemed to be enjoying it; she was trying to stifle her laughter in a one of the pillows.

After a few more seconds of silence, Craig burst in with the MacBook thing.

"I got it, my adored princess!" he gushed, placing the device near Alli's feet as he backed out of the room.

Tyrone sighed heavily as he watched Craig's strange display of affection. "I'd better follow that idiot so he doesn't hurt himself." He waved and walked out after Craig.

As soon as the two other men were gone, Alli picked up the MacBook, brought it over to her desk, and motioned for all of us to gather around. "Can you tell anything about the computer from the outside?"

The outside of the contraption was about forty centimeters in length and thirty centimeters in width, silver, rectangular, and thin. There was a glowing white apple with a bite take out of it facing downwards, and there were a number of small niches on the left of it, most likely used to attach things to the computer. "I can tell that it is light and portable, but I have no idea in the slightest what it could be used for."

Watson nodded from his position next to me. "I agree."

Alli shrugged. "Well, you got that spot on, but wait until I open the computer!" She hastily grabbed the bottom of the MacBook and pulled upwards. The computer opened, revealing a large glass screen and what looked like the keys of a typewriter under it. Alli pressed a button on the right side of the computer and the screen burst into life. It turned bright blue and two icons, one—with a picture of a rose, reading, "Allison Douglas", and another with a picture of a cartoon character, reading, "Alli"—came into view. There was a little figure in the top right corner that looked like an arrow.

Kaydence, now in teacher-mode, took over for Alli at this point. She pointed to the arrow in the corner. "This is called a cursor. You use it to select things onscreen. To move it you use the touchpad, which is the rectangle on the bottom half of the MacBook. When you want to select something, you press the bottom left corner of the touchpad. Holmes, you try."

For a moment, I couldn't do anything but stare at the wondrous machine before me. It was absurd, almost unreal, that in only a hundred and twenty-four years a technological feat like this could be achieved and used daily by the general public. I hadn't any idea what the computer did, but it was still so crazy, so _insane _that I had such a wonder in front of me, that I couldn't help but take a moment and process the information that I had seen what no one else, other than Watson, from my time period could ever, or would ever see. It was…breathtaking.

"Holmes?" Kay's voice shook me out of my stupor of amazement.

I hastily looked up at her. "Y-yes?"

She peered intently at my face, a smile threatening to break out. "Are you crying?"

Before I could answer, I saw Alli sneak over to a large rectangular contraption and press a button. Loud music with lyrics that said: "What about love?" began blasting throughout the room.

"Alli, turn that off! I want to hear Holmes's excuse!" Kay smirked, her eyes sparkling with withheld laughter.

The device clicked off and Alli plopped back into her chair.

"No…there's something in my eye," I sniffed, averting my gaze. _You stupid idiot! All the excuses you could've made, and you choose, "There's something in my eye."? Stupid, stupid, STUPID!  
_I could tell that everyone was staring at me and trying not to laugh, so I busied myself with the device before me. "So I just drag my forefinger across the rectangle?"

"Yep," Kay affirmed. "It should move the cursor!"

I gently moved my forefinger around on the touchpad and, to my surprise, the cursor moved with it. "Dear God! How does it do that?"

Tarin smiled, but her grin was full of mischief. "Magic…it was enchanted by the wizard, Dumbledore!"

I looked over at Watson, who was looking just as dumbfounded as I felt. "Who's Dumbledore?" my friend inquired, knitting his brows quizzically. "Is he from Chicago too?"

A collective groan came from every woman in the room. Suddenly, Tarin was on the floor rolling around in mock-agony, Melody looked on the verge of tears, Alli was staring at us, without blinking (and making both Watson and I uncomfortable), and Kay was over at the bookshelf searching for something frantically.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO DUMBLEDORE IS?" Melody cried, grabbing Watson's shirt collar and shaking him back and forth.

Watson emitted some strange gurgling noises that sounded somewhat like, "No! Let go of my shirt!"

Seeing Melody's passionate display of shock, Tarin hopped up off the multi-colored floor and launched herself at Melody, restraining her. "DON'T STRANGLE WATSON! He can't help being ignorant of the most powerful wizard ever!"

I watched the scene silently from my spot near the desk, debating whether or not to save Watson from the clutches of the distraught Melody. It was getting rather interesting…Alli was still sitting in the chair at the desk and staring at Watson and me unblinkingly, and Tarin was spouting out nonsensical words as the tugged on the back of Melody's sweater in a futile attempt to drag her off Watson, who was turning bluer by the second. Kay was still searching through the bookcase, but now she was swearing loudly and throwing books across the room. Whoever this Dumbledore person was, he sure was important to these women…

Feeling no need to interrupt the women and Watson, I looked back to the computer. I used the cursor to click on the icon that said, "Alli". It demanded a password, so I examined the keyboard for prominent fingerprints. There were many fingerprints on the "w", the "h", the "o", and the "l" keys, so I used the only word that came to my mind at seeing those letters: wholphin. I typed it in slowly, unaccustomed to the feel of the flat keyboard. After typing it in, I pressed the "GO" button, which led me to another different screen. There were many icons on the bottom of the screen this time: there was a compass, a star, a guitar, a musical note, and some letters like "W", "E", and "P". Curious, I clicked on the compass.

Before I could examine this new screen, I was hit over the head with a large, hardcover book. As it collided with my head, I reeled around and fell over onto the floor, landing on my elbow painfully. I looked up at the rest of the people in the room, my vision swimming. I could make out Tarin yanking on one of Watson's arms and Melody tugging on the other, Alli eating some sort of candy next to me with her feet resting leisurely on the desk, and Kay continuing to swear and throw books at random. "Damn! Who threw that book?"

Kay looked up, her arm stopping mid-throw, a guilty smile replacing her frown. "Um…"

"Why are you throwing books?" I demanded, crawling over to where she was searching through the bookshelf and picking myself up gingerly.

She tugged at her collar nervously, then pointed at a stack of books, the first of which was entitled _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince._ She grinned sheepishly. "I can't find the first one…"

"Well, instead of giving me permanent brain damage, how about asking me for help?" I glowered.

"You seemed to be pretty immersed with the lovely computer, and I didn't have the heart to interrupt you two!" she shot back, crossing her arms.

"So it's not normal for a 19th century gentleman to be fascinated with a completely futuristic device, but it _is _normal for a 21st century woman to randomly throw books around the room like a buffoon?" I glared at her, thoroughly annoyed with her comment.

"You, sir, are the opposite of a gentleman!" she spat, meeting my angry stare with an equally furious gaze.

"And you are hardly a lady!" I seethed. "You're annoying, curse too much, have a terrible temper, and you hit people way too much!"

"Like you're any better! You're a slob, you're completely dependent on Watson, you're lazy, and you're completely unhelpful!" Kay snarled at me.

I took a glance at the others, who were now watching our argument with reproachful looks on their faces, Dumbledore forgotten. I, however, was too angry to care. "I expect you won't be able to reach a calm agreement with me by using those wonderful little inventions called words. You'll instead choose to hit me. _Again!_"

"Because you deserve to be hit!" she fired at me, standing up at full height, even though the top of her head barely reached the tip of my nose. "Words just bounce right off your thick skull!"

"Ugh, you're such a typical woman! Complaining about the stupidest things and insulting me because you have nothing better to do!" I thundered, frowning in disgust.

"Oh, shut up! You think you have the right to act all high-and-mighty because you're a man? Or are you just unaccustomed to women wearing pants?" She raged, getting ready to hit me.

"Trousers," I corrected, still furious.

"Pants," she enunciated, frowning.

"Trousers." I growled, drawing closer to her.

"Pants!" We were almost nose-to-nose.

"Trousers!"

"PANTS!"

"TROUSERS, WOMAN!"

"You're in America! They're _pants_!"

Watson interrupted our now heated pants-trousers debate. "Kay! Holmes! Relax! I don't believe that anyone cares about what they're called!"

Kay stared at me heatedly for a moment more, her gaze never leaving mine, until she stepped back and crossed her arms. "They're called 'pants'…" she muttered.

"Trousers," I hissed as I walked past her to sit on the couch next to Tarin.

As I sank down on the old couch, I noticed that Alli, Tarin, and Melody were staring at me like I was insane.

"What?" I asked, crossing my legs. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Tarin pointed at me. "Y-you just had a totally stupid argument and then transitioned into the pants-trousers debate…"

"And?" I inquired.

"What just happened?" the brunette asked, sounding in the middle of the confused and amused.

I rested my head in my hands. "Actually, I haven't the slightest idea..."

Watson sighed. "Speaking of clothing items, Holmes, you should probably change into something different. The dried blood makes you look like you've been through a war."

"Really?" I asked, smiling slightly. "I think it makes me look dashing…"

Kay laughed shortly, the small amount of anger still left on her features melting away into a reluctant grin. "I'll go get your clothes. Yours too, Watson!" She waved slightly and left the office.

I sighed and closed my eyes. _She really is a strange woman…infuriating, yes, but at least she can come up with a good retort. This whole damn thing just keeps getting more and more complicated… I am Sherlock Holmes, London's number one detective. I'm famous for my ability to keep my emotions hidden and locked away under a cold façade of indifference, so why is it different with her? Why can't I seem to shield my emotions from her? Damn…_

Tarin poked me on the shoulder.

"Yes, Tarin?"

"So, when are you gonna make your, like, move?" she asked, grinning.

I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'make my move'?"

Alli rolled her eyes. "Duh! With Kay! You obviously have got the hots for her!"

"'Got the hots'?" I implored, completely confused.

"You like her, dude!" Melody laughed, sitting down on the couch next to Tarin and I.

Watson remained standing. "I told you that you fancied her!" He smirked.

Tarin made a clenched fist and grinned evilly. "You could feel the sexual tension in the room when you guys were, like, arguing!"

I couldn't do anything but gape at her as the rest of the room burst into loud raucous laughter.

At this exact moment, Kay decided to bust in with a bag of clothes. "Hey guys, I got your—okay, what just happened?" She seemed to have noticed that I was the only person in the room who wasn't laughing.

"Just a little joke!" Alli grinned. "I told them how Lalouche got his name, but Holmes doesn't seem to understand."

"It's not a very complicated story. He was named after the guy from _Code Ment _who was yelling at Jude Law because he wanted to talk to Iron Man!" Kay laughed. She threw one outfit at me and one at Watson. "Here you go! There's a bathroom down the hall to the left. First door!"

I nodded my thanks and stalked down the hall to the bathroom before Watson had even gotten up. It was a large, rectangular room with three little cubicles where the toilets were located. I'd never seen such an invention, but it seemed quite ingenious. The walls were blue with small seashell patterns framing the top and bottom of each individual wall. There were three sinks, all made of porcelain and a large mirror framed in silver hanging over them. The floor was covered in sanitary white tiles.

I chose the first cubicle. I put the porcelain seat down and sat on it, looking through the bag that Kaydence had given me. There was a clean white dress shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, a black waistcoat, and a red tie. I changed hastily, and everything fit perfectly, but I couldn't seem to get the tie right. It was quite an embarrassment, but then again…I was usually too lazy to tie one correctly in the first place, instead just letting it lay limply around my neck.

I slung it around my neck casually and prepared to explain to them that I considered it a "fashion statement".

As I was leaving the bathroom, Watson entered it. I nodded. "Hello, Watson."

He nodded. "Holmes."

We looked at one another awkwardly for a while until Watson broke the silence. "The clothes look good on you, Holmes. They suit you."

"Thank you. I'm sure they'll make you rather dashing too." I grinned. "Just remember that I'm always going to be better looking than you."

Watson snorted. "I'm going to get my clothes on!"

"I hope the waistcoat isn't too small," I teased, bringing up the old joke again.

"If anything, it'll be too large. I haven't eaten anything all day," Watson smiled. "Should we ask them for food?"

"Yes, that's a good idea. I'm curious to see what American food has evolved into," I agreed.

"I'll see you back in the office." Watson patted me on the shoulder and entered one of the cubicles.

"Right." I left the bathroom and entered the office once again.

All the women gasped as soon as I came into view.

"Holmes, you look amazing!" Alli gushed, grinning.

"That's an understatement," Tarin announced shamelessly. "He looks dead sexy!"

"You do look really nice, _Sherlock_!" Melody smiled. She had raised her eyebrows sarcastically when she had said my name.

_Ah, so she's still denying the fact that I'm Sherlock Holmes…I really shall have to deduce her after we eat. _

Kay just smiled at me and pointed at my tie. "Why's your tie all undone?"

"It's a fashion statement," I said smoothly.

"Let me guess: you couldn't tie it and you thought that calling it a fashion statement would cover up your obvious fail." Kay grinned.

"You have considerable deduction powers of your own, Kaydence Ballard," I commented, bowing mockingly.

"Stop kissing my ass, and let's get some food!" Kaydence laughed.

"You read my mind!" I smiled.

Suddenly, the office door opened and Watson walked in wearing a pair of tan trousers, a white dress shirt, and a dark green sweater vest. "Hello!"

Tarin ran up and leaped on him. "ARGH! You look so adorable!"

Watson blushed. "Thank you!"

Kaydence laughed. "Tarin, did you purposely get that sweater vest? And yes, Watson, it suits you!"

Tarin looked around, attempting to act innocent. "What? NO!"

Alli poked her. "YES YOU DID! That looks just like our old uniform vest!"

"Okay, maybe I did a little," Tarin admitted.

Melody stared at Watson strangely. "I am so tempted to steal that sweater vest…Aaron needs one!"

"LET'S GET FOOD!" Kaydence yelled, running for the kitchen.

"Hungry, isn't she?" I inquired amusedly.

"Yes," Tarin answered, grinning smugly. "Yes, she is. She _always _is."

Watson scratched his head. "I guess we're saving the lessons for later?"

Tarin nodded. "Oh, yeah…the lessons…we'll continue them…eventually…"

As I ran ahead to catch up to Kay, I heard Alli ask Melody, "So they fought about that for nothing and now they're over it?"

I smiled back at them. "Yes, we're over it. It was quite a stupid argument in the first place."

Watson stared at me, mouth agape. "Holmes, you _never _admit to being wrong!"

"I never said I was wrong, did I?" I entered the kitchen to see a very strange sight greeting me…

_What the hell is that? _

**Also, in response to an anonymous reviewer named Q: I understand that Holmes and Watson have not been speaking much in the last chapters. I should have made Watson speak more, but I always figured Holmes to be the sort to try and figure out what's going on around him by himself (for his pride and whatnot)…I hope that's okay! He'll speak more in the chapters to come! And don't worry! Before the, as you put it, "emotional chaos" sets in, there will be plenty of fluff and sap! ^_^ **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

**Hello readers! I'm going to keep this author's note short and sweet because, frankly, I've been on a page-long-author's-note rampage for the past 6 chapters or so… ^^' I'm going to ask you a question at the end of this chapter, and I really hope that I'll get a lot of responses! ;D One last thing: Sorry that this is sorta late…my grammar-nazi has been on vacation in Italy for two weeks and I've been on a Beatlemania rampage, so I was a little preoccupied! XD Thanks for all the awesome people who have read this and a VERY special thanks to my two constant reviewers: x-Pick'n'Mix-x and xRDJ603! I really, REALLY appreciate that you review every chapter! ;D**

**Random Quote of the Day: "Those of you in the cheaper seats, clap your hands. And the rest of you just rattle your jewelry."**

** - John Lennon (when performing on "The Ed Sullivan Show" with the Beatles in 1964)**

-Kay's POV-

As I bolted into the large kitchen to find food, a _very _weird sight greeted me. Craig was dangling from the high ceiling on a wire with a pink fluffy tutu with rose-colored tights on and a fairy princess wand in his hand, his head held high and his blue eyes closed.

I automatically stopped in my pursuit of edible objects and stared bemusedly at Craig. "Craig? What're you doing up there? And why are you wearing a tutu?"

Craig's eyes snapped open. "Is that you, Kay?"

"Yeah."

Before I could answer, the others had entered the kitchen, and all of them were gazing at the seemingly floating man in the bright pink outfit. Alli and Tarin seemed to be unfazed by the odd display, but Melody, Watson, and, especially, Holmes seemed very befuddled.

Holmes frowned. "Am I to expect that this is what American entertainment has become? If so, I am sadly disappointed." He lazily scratched his head. "I was hoping for some cultured music, honestly." He raised one dark eyebrow and studied Craig. "Or are you doing a strange rendition of an opera? If so, I am…intrigued."

Craig gulped from his position high above us. "Actually, I'm stuck up here."

"Why did you go up here in the first place?" Melody asked.

Craig sighed as he began rotating in a circle slowly. "I lost a bet with Tyrone."

Watson narrowed his eyes, then spoke slowly. "What was this bet?"

"If I could land one punch on him in a five-minute period, I could watch _Desperate Housewives_ tonight. If I failed, I had to pay him $20," Craig explained.

"…That explains nothing, Craig," Tarin laughed.

Craig shrugged, causing him to twirl slightly faster. "Oh, I forgot. If Tyrone landed a punch on me, I had to dangle from the ceiling in the kitchen wearing a pink tutu and carrying a princess wand for an hour."

"How long have you been up there?" I inquired, fighting the urge to grin at the sight of Craig in tights.

He checked his watch. "Um…about fourteen minutes."

"Not to be the master of the obvious, which I _am_, but you look absolutely ridiculous up there," Holmes pointed out insensitively.

Alli smacked him on the shoulder angrily. "There's no need to be so mean about it! How would you feel if you were in his position?"

Holmes raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his hair coolly. "Obviously, I would never allow myself to fall into that position."

I couldn't help blurting, "But Holmes, you'd look great in pink tights!"

His eyebrows flew into his hairline and he blushed slightly as everyone, including Craig, burst into laughter. " I-I hardly think that was necessary!"

Tarin grinned infuriatingly. "Um, yes it was, because you _would _look, like, totally badass in them!"

Watson coughed lightly. "Not to interrupt your conversation on whether or not Holmes would look good in pink tights, but can we please get some food?"

"Sure, Watson. Let me get my cookbook out!" I smiled, starting for stove. As I passed Holmes and Watson, I swore that I heard Holmes mutter, "Watson…you do realize that I _could _pull off pink tights, right?"

I giggled under my breath and placed an iron pot on the burner.

I began looking around for a spatula. Alli's kitchen was large and square, with stainless steel appliances. There were two stoves, a large sink, and a refrigerator all in a row on the west side. On the east side was a long bar that stored all her eating utensils and cooking supplies and acted as one big cutting board, and it also had a small indoor grill on the end. There were many cabinets on the walls that housed all the plates and cups.

"Spatula…" I muttered under my breath, searching through one of the drawers eagerly.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Holmes approaching me slowly with something in his hand. Out of pure habit and kung-fu classes twice a week, I spun around and roundhouse kicked the thing out of his hand. "HI-YAH!"

Holmes, though shocked at first, retaliated quickly and grabbed my ankle, twisting it so that I was flung onto the floor heavily.

I landed the way my instructor had taught me and avoided any injuries, but decided to mess with Holmes's mind a little. I rolled over so that my eyes were nearly hidden by my arm, let my body fall limp, and sniffled a little.  
Holmes's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "K-Kay! Are you all right? D-did I hurt you?"

I grinned slightly into my arm, but let out another small whimper.

Holmes rushed to my side and kneeled down next to me, gently pushing my head away from my arm. "Please tell me you aren't hurt…" For once his dark eyes were filled with something other than sarcasm or the thrill of deduction. This time they were filled with deep concern.

Acutely aware of the feeling of his calloused hands on my face, I opened one eye and winked at him. "Gotcha…" I leaped up, grabbing his hands in mine and tossing him over my body to that I was pinning him under me in a classic wrestling stance. I grinned happily. "I WIN, HOLMES!"

His lips twisted up in a smile. "As much as I detest you for doing that, well played…but this isn't over yet!"

Watson interrupted our battle. "Oh yes it is. I think I shall fairly die of hunger before you two finish your little duel."

I groaned, "Aww…but that was fun," and let Holmes go.

We both stood up and smiled at each other before I went back to looking for my spatula. "What was it that you were going to hit me with, Holmes?"

He grinned slyly. "Actually, that _was _the spatula…"

I blushed heavily.

_FAIL! _

He crossed the room, picked up the spatula, and threw it at me.

I caught it and laughed. "What, are you trying to impale me now?"

Holmes tilted his head innocently. "No…what ever gave you that idea?"

Tarin, with a smug little smile on her face approached me. "Hey, do you remember that advice I gave you?"

I nodded. "Those infamous lines of, 'Just shove everything else aside and make out with him'?"

Tarin grinned, and I could tell from her expression that she was planning something. "Do you believe that it will work?"

"Frankly, no," I replied, opening the refrigerator and pulling out some frozen burger patties.

She just stared at me with the same infuriating grin. "News flash: it does!"

"Prove it," I challenged.

She pointed at Watson, who was talking to Melody animatedly. "Watch me!"

I could only watch as Tarin streaked across the room like a bolt of lightning and grabbed the front of Watson's sweater vest, then pulled him into a deep kiss, much to the British man's surprise. Watson's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as Tarin grabbed him and pulled him closer, then somehow kissed him deeper.

"Holy…shit…" I laughed, applauding her lack of shame. "You win! You _win!_"

Melody and Alli burst into random applause and Alli even wolf-whistled a couple times. Holmes smirked knowingly at his friend and clapped lightly.

When the two of them finally broke apart, it was because Holmes and I had sneakily decided to throw dry rice at them and yell, "Tarin and John are to be married!"

Alli ran to the front of the room and folded her hands in prayer. "Will the congregation please be seated as we begin to celebrate the union of Dr. John Watson and Miss Tarin Giordano?

An evilly beaming Tarin waved her hand dismissively. "Cut the crap and get to the 'I do' part!"

Poor, furiously blushing Watson stuttered, "W-w-wait! W-we c-can't get m-married!"

"Relax," Melody comforted, smiling broadly. "Alli doesn't have a license to do so!"

"I do…" Holmes pointed out innocently, leaning against a wall. "I was required to get a marriage license to solve one of my more…difficult cases."

I pushed the detective forward. "Marry the happy couple!"

Watson shook his head back and forth frantically. "NO! This isn't that serious!"

"Not yet it isn't!" Alli laughed. "Now come on, Holmes! Let's get these two hitched!"

Melody pushed the beet-red Englishman up to the front of the room and I ran out of the kitchen with a new plan in my head: _I'm going to get Sherlock Holmes to play the violin! _

I ran down the long hallway, past the bathroom, and entered Alli's small music room. It wasn't much—just a rectangular room with a bunch of instruments lining the walls. She only played the guitar and the ukulele, and even then very little of them. She kept most of them there so that when Tarin, Melody, or I came over we could play when we wanted to. She had many instruments crammed into the room: a drum set, three electric guitars—a righty Sunburst Gibson Les Paul, a black Epiphone Casino with the strings switched around, and a white later model of the Fender Stratocaster with the strings switched—, two lefty bass guitars (a Rickenbacker and a Hofner), a keyboard, a Yamaha piano, two violins, a flute, and four brightly colored ukuleles, one lefty and three righty. There was a small bookshelf half hidden behind the piano that contained various volumes of musical tablature and sheet music. I had offered to clean out the room for her a coupe months ago, but she hadn't given me an answer. It remained messy as hell.

I grabbed the two violins and hurried back to the kitchen, where Melody was throwing more rice at Tarin and Watson, Alli was searching for a Bible, Watson was protesting loudly, and Holmes was watching his friend squirm with an amused smirk on his face.

I tapped him on the shoulder and shoved the violin at him. "Do you know how to play Pachelbel's Canon in D?"

He nodded curtly. "Of course I do, you silly woman. It was the first thing I taught myself to play."

"Good. You start and I'll join in with the harmony on the fifth measure," I commanded, surveying the others with interest.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I didn't know that you knew how to play the violin!"  
"There are many things you don't know about me, Holmes," I replied playfully.

"…That line was so cliché that I don't have a comment about it," Holmes laughed. He adjusted the violin so that it was resting in the crook of his neck.

"Holmes left without a sarcastic comment? The world must be at an end! And why didn't you notice, oh, Master of Deduction?" I giggled, adjusting my violin as well.

Holmes frowned. "The calluses from your guitar playing masked the distinctive violin calluses that I myself have." He showed me his hands. "See?"

I nodded and cleared my throat.

Alli, who had noticed Holmes and I with our violins, clapped her hands. Everyone fell silent. "Will everyone please take their positions?"

Watson blanched. "This is a _mock _wedding, right?"

Melody waved her hand dismissively. "Call it what you will."

Watson went and stood at the front of the room with Alli, who was acting as the minister while Holmes was performing. Tarin, who had tied a tablecloth around her neck like a cape in place of a veil, was in the back of the kitchen with another, shorter tablecloth wrapped around her torso and waist in a toga-like fashion. Melody held her brunette friend's "veil" in one hand and rice in the other, ready to throw it at whoever got in her line of fire. Holmes and I stood in one corner, out instruments at the ready.

After a few seconds, Alli nodded towards Holmes and I. Holmes caught my eye and held it. He muttered under his breath," One, two, one, two, three, four!" and began to play.

I almost forgot that we were standing in a best friend's kitchen staging a mock wedding between a fictional character and another best friend. Holmes had closed his eyes now, and a contented expression now graced his rough features. His lips were upturned in a small smile and he swayed gently in time to the gentle, almost cautious-sounding, beginning of the composition. His playing was smooth and even, with no unpleasant screeching or wavering that violins are prone to. Observing his calloused fingers softly press down on each of the strings, his long hand climbing slowly and effortlessly along the neck, I thought of the way that that the wooden instrument seemed extension of his arm, a part of him. Watching him cradle the violin tenderly in his arms, I realized that Holmes wasn't just a sarcastic, intelligent, witty, deduction machine…He was a sarcastic, intelligent, witty deduction machine with feelings. In other words, Holmes seemed more vulnerable, no, more _human_ when he played the violin.

Holmes's strange display of emotion unnerved me somewhat, so I nearly forgot to start playing on the fifth measure. I joined in shakily, but quickly got better.

Tarin was making her way down the "aisle" now, her long, flowing tablecloth-dress dragging elegantly with Mel holding the back and walking slowly behind her, chucking rice at Alli as nonchalantly as she could. Watson looked as nervous as a man who was getting fake-married should look. Alli tried her best to keep a solemn expression on her face.

Tarin eventually got to her place next to Watson and Alli signaled for Holmes and I to stop playing. I held out a D chord while Holmes threw in a little improvisation for the ending.

Everyone clapped politely, and Holmes handed me his violin. He winked at me with a twinkle in his eye that hadn't been there before. _Wow…he loves music almost as much as I do. Maybe even more…_

He walked up and took the Bible from Alli, nodding his thanks. "Now, I really don't know how modern weddings are, so you two might have to help me out."

Tarin laughed. "Just marry us!"  
Holmes flipped to a random page in the Bible. "Um…John 14: God blah blah blah, giving la di da, and they all lived happily ever after! Watson, you're going to treat her well, I presume? And Tarin, you won't set his clothing on fire, as women are wont to do?" Before either of them could answer, Holmes cried, "You may kiss your bride!"

I laughed loudly at Holmes's interpretation of how a priest speaks at a wedding and clapped along with the others and Tarin and Watson kissed again.

As they parted, someone's voice came from high above us. "Hey, it's been an hour! Can someone get me down?" Craig was still floating high above us on his wire.

"After the after-party!" Tarin yelled. "You're like our magical wedding fairy!"

Craig sighed. "That won't be too long, will it? My knees are starting to go numb…"

I set both violins down on the bar carefully, and began looking for ingredients to make homemade fries. "I shall make you a wedding feast, complete with store-bought cake!"

Everyone cheered and laughed, then left to go sit at the dining table, which was in the adjourning room.

I took the wrappings off the burger patties, got out some condiments, then grabbed the spatula that I had kicked out of Holmes's hand and started up the indoor grill. I threw eight patties on the grill, then got to slicing a bunch of potatoes that I had found in the fridge.

Someone's hand snatched the knife out of my hand. Before I could whirl around and punch my assailant in the face, the person caught my fist in their hand.

Holmes stared at me with his eyebrows raised, the knife twirling languidly in between his long fingers. "You should really stop hitting people on a whim…"

"I don't know…when someone randomly grabs a knife out of my hand, my first inclination is _not _that they want to be friends with me." I grinned as he dropped my hand.

"Who said that I wanted to be friends with you?" Holmes snorted, laughing.

"You did. You're holding the Knife of Eternal Friendship!"

Holmes dramatically dropped the knife as if it were white-hot. "I wasn't aware that the knife was cursed! Not that I believe in that sort of thing…"

I picked the knife up off the floor and pointed it at him threateningly. "Help me make the food or I'll kill you!"

Holmes smirked at me. "I'm shaking in my boots."

"You're not wearing boots!"

His eyes narrowed. "Touché!"

I began slicing potatoes again. "I doubt you could help me anyways. From what I hear, you're damn useless in the kitchen!"

Holmes found another knife in one of the drawers and began cutting up tomatoes. "I might be hopeless in the kitchen, but I'm _very _good with a knife!"

"That sounds ominous."

"It is," he warned, brown eyes glinting mischievously.

Soon, after much banter and knife stealing, we had made burgers and homemade chips with a couple glasses of chocolate milk. Holmes was carrying the fries and I was carrying the plate of burgers and a couple of the milks. We carried the food into the dining room where Tarin and Watson were sitting next to each other and talking to Mel and Alli.

As I put the burgers down on the table, I said, "Holmes, pass me the fries!"

Holmes stared quizzically at me. "These aren't fries…they're chips!"

"Fries," I corrected, putting the chocolate milks on the table also.

"Chips." He crossed his arms.

"Fries!" I was getting annoyed.

"Chips!" He was glaring furiously at me again.

"FRIES!" I met his gaze spot on.

"CHIPS!" We were once again nearly nose-to-nose.

"FRIES!" I could see every single one of his eyelashes.

Suddenly, I felt someone's hands drag me away from Holmes. That person swiftly dragged me down the hall and threw me in a closet before I could register what was happening. Holmes was flung in after me. The door was slammed shut, leaving us in pitch-black darkness, and Watson's voice yelled, "You're not coming out until you stop arguing!"

Tarin's gleeful voice shouted, "Kiss and make up, kiddies!"

My stomach rumbled angrily. "But I'm hungry!"

"Perhaps you'd like some _chips_!" Holmes practically hissed.

I scowled back at him. "Damn you!"

Melody's voice cried, "We're going to get Craig down!"

Holmes wriggled beside me. "Let us out! We're not cattle!"

Apparently, everyone outside was ignoring us because Alli yelled, "See you two in the morning!"

"But my dog is—" I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps walking away from the door.

_And so, I'm left alone in pitch-black claustrophobic closet with a fictional detective who I may or may not be in love with. What could possibly go wrong?_

**Ta da! Hope you guys enjoyed it! ^^ Here is…the BIG, PROBABLY OBVIOUS QUESTION! (****dun dun dun!****) Should Kay and Holmes kiss in the next chapter? See? Super obvious! XD I don't know if I should do it randomly and **_**not **_**ask you guys, or do a little request thing…Whatever! Just reply and review and I'll see what I can do! ;D (OMJ, THAT JUST RHYMED! XD)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Hello, my awesome readers! :D I apologize for this extremely late chapter… T_T I just started my first year of high school and everything has been so hectic! Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my new school, but it's got me very, very busy. Which means sad news—Chapters will probably be spaced two weeks apart from now on… T_T I'M SO SORRY! But it's just going to be hard for me to find time to sit down and write 3,000 words in one sitting like I have been! XP Anyways…ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER (WHICH SHALL BE FLUFFEH AND MAYBE SLIGHTLY OOC)! ^^**

**FOR Q: I really appreciate that long review! It's comments like that that make me want to keep writing; not ones that simply say "Great job!" but ones that make me think about what I'm writing and how I'm writing it! ;) To explain my previous mistakes and/or unclearness: About Watson and Mary, in this fic, I had them just being in the dating stage in order for a bit of Watson x Tarin XP I don't like Mary very much—but maybe that's just Holmes influencing my judgment! XD And yes, they're only fake married! Also, Holmes is somewhat missing his home and such, but I haven't had time to elaborate on this because last chapter was in Kay's POV! One more thing: I very much enjoyed your suggestions! I might use one of them! :D Thanks again for the great review! **

**Random Quote of the Day: Lady Astor: "Mr. Churchill! You're drunk!**

** Winston Churchill: "Yes, and you, madam, are ugly. But tomorrow, I shall be sober!"**

**WARNING: THERE ARE SOME BLATANT SEXUAL TERMS USED HERE. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS, MY APOLOGIES. TRY TO SKIP OVER THOSE PARTS! **

-Holmes's POV-

"Shit!" Kay cursed beside me. I couldn't see her face, but I knew that she was scowling. "I can't believe those idiots locked us in a closet together!"

I sighed. "Yes. They probably want us to kiss or do something ridiculously personal or romantic."

"That sounds like one of Tarin's ideas. She's probably bugged the closet or something."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "She's put bugs in the closet? Where are they?" I looked up and rather stupidly began searching for insects through the heavy darkness.

"No," she chuckled, "bugging is when you film someone using hidden cameras. Most of the time, it's secret, but in this case, it's pretty clear what Tarin's done."

"Fascinating! How small are these cameras?" I ran my hands across the nearest wall, hoping to find one.

"You won't have any luck looking for them there! Most cameras will be on the ceiling," Kay pointed out. I heard her move back and forth slightly.

I crossed my arms, disappointed. "Well, that gives me nothing interesting to do." I leaned back against the wall and sighed. "What shall we do?"

"We could sleep," Kay suggested, sliding closer to me.

I blanched when I heard her answer. "W-what? Sleep? You mean _together_?" I tried to stop myself from gawking at her, but my mouth was refusing to close.

She laughed at my shock. "No, you idiot! I meant we could take a nap!"

"_Together? _I demand to know why you moved closer to me!" I blushed heavily again and tried to inch as far away from the woman next to me as possible.

"NO! I get one half of the closet, and you get the other!" She poked me in the shoulder. "I moved closer to you because I was going to use you as a pillow! I guess we technically would be sleeping together, but as long as we're—"

"Don't even suggest that." I cut her off, still very red and heated in the face. "That would mean that Tarin and the others would have won. We can't allow that."

She chuckled, kicking her legs against the closet door rhythmically. "I like the way you think, Holmes! So no nap?"

"No. I suggest that we just have a conversation," I replied.

"What kind of conversation?" She asked, kicking the door more forcefully.

"We could plan out how we're going to escape this closet." I recommended.

Kay crossed her arms. "So we're already trying to get out?"

"You're _enjoying _this?"

Kay snorted. "You think I'm enjoying this? I could be eating _burgers _and _sleeping_!"

"Ah, the two most important things in your life: meat and sleeping." Before I could even grin smugly at the blonde, something that felt remarkably like a bared fist smashed into my shoulder. "What was that for?"

She coughed lightly and fidgeted slightly. "Burgers and sleeping are _not _the most important things in my life!"

"What are, then?"

"My dog, my friends, and my family," Kay replied.

I rested my feet on what felt like a discarded shoebox. "What a remarkably unoriginal answer!"

"Oh, well what's important to you, Holmes? I suspect deduction, smoking, drugs, and freeloading off of Watson are high up on your list! Wait, you're Sherlock Holmes! You don't care about anything but your stupid hobbies!" Her voice was laced with anger and another alien emotion as she spoke. She was beginning to shake slightly also.

"Where did that come from? You speak of me as if I'm a monster!" I was nearly shouting at her. _How dare she assume that I care about nothing! Where is this outburst coming from?_

She swore and began trembling, presumably with anger, even more. "You're just…" She stopped talking suddenly and it became eerily silent.

I frowned. "I'm just what?"

What sounded like a small, strangled yelp came from where Kaydence was sitting. "You're not a monster…I just—" She broke off suddenly and began thrashing around violently. "DAMN IT! GET ME OUT OF THIS CLOSET!"

I barely registered what was happening at first. A barrage of invisible hands and feet beat against my chest and my face as the frightened woman rolled around the room screaming. _What in hell has possessed her? _I grabbed Kay's fists with difficulty as they pounded against my chest and held them as tightly as I could. The rest of her body stopped twisting around in knots but she was still quaking. "Kaydence! What's wrong? Did I really offend you that much?"

"N-no!" The answer came out in a frightened gasp. "I'm just ext-tremely c-claustrophobic!" She began shaking again.

The realization hit me like a frying pan to the face. "Well, why didn't you just tell me that, you blithering, idiotic woman?" I pulled her into a tight embrace to stop her from quivering. I was slightly out of breath from dealing with the spasmodic blonde, so I said nothing as I held onto her for dear life.

"N-not helping, Holmes!" she cried, wriggling profusely.

"It will," I insisted through gritted teeth, holding onto the woman with difficulty. "It is a medical fact!" I smashed her arms into the side of her body by clamping my arms around her torso and dragged her onto my lap so that I could pin her legs to the floor with my own.

"Crap!" she yelled, trying to escape my iron grip. "Let me go! This is sexual harassment!"

I nearly laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm going to keep 'sexually harassing' you until you calm down!"

"RAPIST!" she screeched, freeing her arms and attempting to leap for the door. "I have to get out of here!"

"Calm down, you silly woman!" I scoffed, grabbing her again so that she was completely immobilized. "Now, we're going to sit here until you stop behaving like a silly child."

She practically growled at me. "Put your hand anywhere near my face and I'll bite your goddamned fingers off!" Her quivering was gradually beginning to lessen.  
I leaned back contentedly. "I don't plan to. Now shut up and calm down."

"Bastard," she mumbled angrily, her quivering much less severe now. She appeared to stop and think for a moment. "Hey, rapist, I have a question."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes?"

"If you're going to rape me, which position do you prefer?" Kay asked me this question completely seriously.

I almost dropped her, but instead chose to yell loudly at her. "WHAT?"

"I'm just messing with you," she snickered, her body shaking with laughter rather than fright now. "I was trying to see if you'd be so shocked that you'd let me go."

I frowned moodily at her. "That was obscene!"

"Wanna hear something even more obscene?" she asked. I could tell that she was grinning at me deviously.

"N—" I couldn't even reply before she started singing.

She began singing something so explicit that I could feel the blood pouring from my ears. I didn't get all the lyrics (nor did I have any desire to) but it ended with, "_Can you take it in the aaaaaaaass?" _

I paused for a moment, relishing the silence. "You're deliberately trying to disturb and annoy me aren't you?"

"What made you think that, genius?" She chuckled and leaned her head against my shoulder. "Can I take a nap while you figure out how to get out of the closet?"

"What happened accusing me of being a rapist?" I grinned.

"I'm too tired to care anymore. So can I?" she pleaded.

I sighed. "Very well."

"BOO-YAH!" Kay crowed. "NAP TIME!" She snuggled her head into the crook of my neck. "Has anyone ever told you that you feel squishy? 'Cause you do! You feel almost like…a stuffed animal!"

"I've never been compared to a stuffed animal before. However, I have been compared to a rapist!" I stuck my tongue out at her.

She scoffed. "Let it go, Holmes! So I can seriously nap on your shoulder? I thought you'd shake me off and yell one of two things: 'No! I'm a virgin!' or 'Sherlock Holmes doesn't sleep with random women!'" She laughed heartily again.

I blushed. "Well, I wouldn't have yelled either considering I'd never let you know either of those facts about me. And yes, you may nap on my shoulder. I suppose I don't care because I've already supposedly 'sexually harassed' you today."

"Touché!"

Neither of us said anything for a while. I assumed that Kaydence had shut her eyes and was attempting to fall asleep. I sat in silence, thinking about what had just happened and trying to get used to the alien feeling of holding a woman in my arms. _What just happened? Am I willingly holding a woman in my arms? This is low, even for me! Why am I fine with this? I suppose it isn't all that bad. It's not unpleasant, but it is quite unnerving. I'll see how it goes. _

Kaydence's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Tell me a story."

"A story? What are you, two?" I chuckled.

"What? A good story helps me fall asleep! Just tell me about Baker Street or something!"

I groaned. "Very well." I racked my brain for a story to tell her. "Do you want to hear about a case or just about Baker Street?"

"A case would be too intense for sleeping. Just tell me about Baker Street and people you've met!" She smiled into my shoulder.

"Fine." I closed my eyes. "Watson's and my residence in London is 221B Baker Street. It's a very small flat, with only three rooms, but it's a very homey place. Watson always admonishes me about keeping it clean, but I prefer it messy and disorganized. To me, it is organized. Everything is in its proper place. I have a rather large book collection, mostly science books and books on deduction, but somewhere in there I have a few classics. The books are normally strewn around the room, but I, of course, know exactly where everything is. Watson has the more extensive book collection. I suppose my favorite part about Baker Street is the fireplace. Much has been discussed around that fireplace: it's where Watson first told me that he was courting Mary. It is where we have solved an incredible amount of cases. It is where we first discussed getting Gladstone. Yes, I am somewhat emotionally attached to that fireplace. It's a strange object to love, but yet it is the one thing I miss the most about Baker Street." I was getting on an emotional tangent. Normally, it was only Watson to whom I ever expressed longing or sadness, but there was something incredibly soothing about having someone sitting on your lap. I continued on. "I've met many people at Baker Street, most either looking for someone to assist them with a problem. I very seldom get visitors. Though I am considered the greatest detective in London, I am also considered to be one of the most reclusive people in the city."

I told Kaydence about my life in London, the mad people I had met, the brotherly-bond I had with Watson, and everything I missed about my home. I wasn't even sure that Kaydence was awake anymore, but I pressed on, spilling my heart out to the empty closet. I must have seemed like an emotional dolt, but I was too far in to stop now.

After speaking to no one in particular for what must have been an hour, I rested my head against the wall and rested, slightly sleepy after the day's events.

"You really miss London, don't you?" Kay asked suddenly.

I jolted in surprise. "K-kay? You're awake?"

"Yeah. I have been this entire time." she explained, picking her head up. "You're a good story teller."

I smiled slightly at her. "Thank you."

We sat in silence again, neither of us moving. I couldn't help feeling rather content with her in my arms. I dismissed the possibility of it being love, but I knew that whatever was making me feel this way was certainly something that only Kaydence possessed. Watson didn't make me feel strangely warm inside. I decided to break the silence. "We really should try to get out of this closet."

She nodded and climbed off of my lap and stretched. "Let's hurry and get out before I freak out again!"

"Agreed." I thought for a moment. "Can you pick locks?"

"Sort of."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." I chided, grinning at her.

"Shut up. You're lucky that I have a bobby-pin on me!" She poked me on the shoulder and knelt by the door.

I waited silently for the first ten minutes, but eventually I began starting to get impatient. "Are you done yet?"

She hissed at me. "It's harder than it looks!"

I sighed, and idea forming in the back of my head. "Let me try. Get away from the door."

She sidled back from the door and stood behind me. "What are you going to do?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." I raised my foot and slammed it against the wooden door, knocking it off its hinges. Light streamed into the closet, blinding me momentarily.

Kay ran into the hallway screaming, "FREEDOM!"

I followed her cautiously, my vision swimming from the sudden bright light. "Kay, where are you?"

"KITCHEN!"

I found my way into the kitchen to see Kay sprawled on the table with two burgers in her hands, munching contentedly. She raised an eyebrow at me as I came into her line of vision. "Why didn't you break down the door an hour ago?"

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself!" I snorted, picking up a burger for myself.

"Whatever! You're probably just perverted!" She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm going to go find Tarin and kill her!"

"Where are they?" I inquired, scanning the kitchen for traces of the others.

She frowned good-naturedly at me. "You tell me, master of deduction!"

I spotted a bright yellow piece of paper on the fridge with Watson's neat handwriting on it. "This appears to be a note from them!"

"Read it," she commanded, her mouth full of hamburger.

"'Dear Holmes and Kay, I'm guessing that if you're reading this note, you've escaped from the closet (yes, it was Tarin's idea). I just wanted to let you both know that we have returned to Kay's house. I don't know what it is, but apparently, it's something called a sleepover. We were going to pick you up in the morning, but if you're already out of the closet, please drive to Kay's house. We will have fed Ringo, so there is no need for Kay to be upset. Alli has left the keys to the automobile on the countertop. Your friend, John Watson.'"

Kay swore. "I can't believe that they'd have a sleepover at my house without me! Wait…yes I can. BASTARDS!"

I sighed. "Well, we might as well drive over there."

She nodded. "Grab the keys. I am going to kick all of their asses!"

I laughed and grabbed the shiny keys, then threw them to Kay. "Here!"

She caught them deftly. "Let's roll."

We walked to the car in silence. Outside, there was a thick blanket of perfect snow on the ground and the streets were icy. It had to be at least -5ºC. I hastily climbed into the passenger seat and she jumped into the driver's seat. The others had taken Tarin's Jeep, so this was another sort of car. It was very long and sleek and was painted bright red with the word, "Ferrari" on the side. It was quite obviously built for speed.

Kay started the car. "Can you plug my iPhone in for me, Holmes?"

"The glowing rectangle?"

"Yes, the glowing rectangle." She pulled out the iPhone from her pocket and handed it to me. "There is a black cord in the compartment in front of you. Take it out."

I opened the compartment and grabbed the thin cord. "This one?"

"Yes. Now plug the straight end into the top of the iPhone and the other end into this little circle on the car right here." She pointed to a small circle on a panel with a number of gadgets on it.

I did as she said. "Good?"

"Yep. Now select a song. Drag your finger along the screen to scroll, tap on a song to choose it. The pause/play button is near the bottom of the screen." She pulled out of the driveway.

I moved my finger up and down the screen, marveling in the advanced nature of this small device. I randomly tapped on a song.

"_Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time. Maybe I'm afraid of the way I need you." _A male's voice blasted through the car.

Kaydence cheered, "ALRIGHT! Good choice, Holmes!"

"Who is this?" I asked, intrigued with the music style and the man's raspy vocals.

"Paul McCartney. In my opinion: God." She laughed and sped down the road, the car purring.

"Hm…I guess I rather like it. What about this one?" I clicked on another one.

"_And I was all: Baby, baby, baby, OOOOH!"_

Kay screeched. "HOLMES! TURN THAT OFF NOW!"

"Why is it on your phone if you hate it so much?" I asked, even though I too was getting annoyed with the girl's high-pitched singing.

"My sister put it on there! TURN IT OFF!"

I pressed the pause button. "Who was that?"

"Justin Beiber," she scowled.

"Wait…that was a MAN!"

"Yes. He's a shame to men everywhere, I know. Y'know, let's just leave the music alone for now." She sighed and pulled the iPhone out. "I can't handle any more Justin."


End file.
